HERCULES   AND  THE   GOLDEN   APPLES   [page  104] 


{Frontispiece 


HALF  A  HUNDRED 
HERO  TALES 

OF  ULYSSES  AND  THE  MEN  OF  OLD 


EDITED   BY 

FRANCIS   STORR 

EDITOR  OF  "THE  JOURNAL  OF  EDUCATION,"  LONDON 


WITH      ILLUSTRATIONS     BY 

FRANK   C.  PAPE 


NEW  YORK 
HENRY   HOLT   AND   COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,  1911, 

BY 
HENRY  HOLT  AND  COMPANY 

Published  January,  1911 


THE  OUINN  *  BOOEN  CO.  PRESS 
RAHWAY,  N.  J. 


PZ 

*l 

£     I 


II  13 

PREFACE  t 


THE  apology  offered  for  adding  yet  another  book  of 
Classical  Stories  to  the  endless  existing  versions, 
ancient  and  modern,  in  verse  and  in  prose,  is  the  plea  that 
Vivien  offers  to  Merlin  for  her  "  tender  rhyme  "  : 

"It  lives  dispersedly  in  many  hands, 
And  every  minstrel  sings  it  differently." 

"  You  Greeks/'  said  the  Egyptian  priest  to  Herodotus, 
"  are  always  children,"  and  Greece  will  never  lose  the 
secret  of  eternal  youth.  The  tale  of  Troy  divine,  of 
Thebes  and  Pelops'  line,  the  song  of  sweet  Colonus,  the 
most  cruel  death  of  Pyramus  and  Thisby,  Dido  with  a 
willow  in  her  hand  —  these  old  stories  of  Homer  and 
Sophocles,  of  Virgil  and  Ovid,  have  not  lost  their  gloss 
and  freshness.  "  The  innocent  brightness  of  a  new-born 
day  is  lovely  yet."  They  have  been  sung  or  said  by  Wace 
and  Caxton,  by  Chaucer  and  Wordsworth,  by  Keats  and 
William  Morris  ;  they  have  been  adapted  for  young  read 
ers  by  Fenelon,  by  Niebuhr,  by  Kingsley,  by  Hawthorne, 
and  yet  the  last  word  has  not  been  said.  Each  new  edi 
tor  makes  his  own  selection,  chooses  some  new  facet,  or 
displays  the  jewel  in  a  new  light.  As  Sainte-Beuve  re 
marks  of  "  Don  Quixote  "  and  other  world  classics,  "  One 
can  discover  there  something  more  than  the  author  first 
of  all  tried  to  see  there,  and  certainly  more  than  he 
dreamed  of  putting  there." 

The  present  collection  of  Fifty  Stories  (there  might 

iii 

649025 


iv  Preface 

well  have  been  five  hundred)  makes  no  pretense  either 
of  completeness  or  of  uniformity.  Some  of  the  con 
tributors  have  followed  closely  the  texts,  others  have 
given  free  play  to  their  fancy,  but  in  every  case  the 
myths  have  been  treated  simply  as  stories  and  no  attempt 
has  been  made  either  to  trace  their  origin  or  to  indicate 
their  religious  or  ethical  significance.  Most  of  the  stories 
point  their  own  moral,  and  need  no  more  commentary 
than  Jack  the  Giant-killer  or  the  Sleeping  Beauty.  Young 
readers  of  to-day  resent  the  sermons  even  of  a  Kingsley. 
From  "  Tanglewood  Tales/'  a  book  that  was  the  joy  of 
our  childhood,  we  have  borrowed  ten  stories,  and  have 
taken  the  liberty  of  dividing  into  chapters  and  slightly 
abridging  the  longest  of  Hawthorne's  Tales.  All  but  one 
of  the  remaining  forty  are  original  versions. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

PLUTO  AND  PROSERPINE  ...........  x 

By  H.  P.  Maskell 

PAN   AND   SYRINX      ........  * 

By  Mrs.  Guy  E.  Lloyd 

THE  STORY  OF  PHAETON     ......  I3 

By  M.  M.  Bird 

ARETHUSA    ............  '    m  I9 

By  V.  C.  Turnbull 

THE  STORY  OF  DAPHNE  ............      24 

By  M.  M.  Bird 

DEUCALION  AND  PYRRHA     ..........  28 

By  M.  M.  Bird 

EPIMETHEUS  AND  PANDORA  ...........      33 

By  Nathaniel  Hawthorne 

EUROPA    AND    THE    GOD-BULL       ..........         50 

By  Nathaniel  Hawthorne 

CADMUS  AND  THE  DRAGON'S  TEETH  ........      65 

By  Nathaniel  Hawthorne 

ORPHEUS  AND  EURYDICE       ...........      83 

By  V.  C.  Turnbull 

HERCULES  AND  THE  GOLDEN  APPLES  ........      89 

I.  HERCULES  AND  THE  OLD  MAN  OF  THE  SEA 
By  Nathaniel  Hawthorne 

HERCULES  AND  THE  GOLDEN  APPLES  ........      98 

II.  HERCULES  AND  ATLAS 
By  Nathaniel  Hawthorne 

HERCULES  AND  NESSUS   ............     107 

By  H.  P.  Maskeil 

THE  QUEST  OF  THE  GOLDEN  FLEECE  ........     in 

By  M.  M.  Bird 

V 


vi  Contents 

PAGE 

How  THESEUS  FOUND  His  FATHER 124 

By  Nathaniel  Hawthorne 

THESEUS  AND  THE  WITCH   MEDEA 131 

By  Nathaniel  Hawthorne 

THESEUS  GOES  TO  SLAY  THE  MINOTAUR 138 

By  Nathaniel  Hawthorne 

THESEUS  AND  ARIADNE 144 

By  Nathaniel  Hawthorne 

PARIS  AND  (ENONE 154 

By  V.  C.  Turnbull 

IPHIGENIA 161 

By  Mrs.  Guy  E.  Lloyd 

PROTESILAUS 166 

By  Mrs.  Guy  E.  Lloyd 

THE  DEATH  OF  HECTOR  . 173 

By  V.  C.  Turnbull 

THE   WOODEN    HORSE 180 

By  F.  Storr 

THE  SACK  OF  TROY 185 

By  F.  Storr 

THE  DEATH  OF  AJAX 191 

By  F.  Storr 

THE  FLIGHT  OF  ^ENEAS  FROM  TROY 196 

By  F.  Storr 

AND  DIDO 201 

By  V.  C.  Turnbull 

IN   HADES 209 

By  V.  C.  Turnbull 

NlSUS    AND    EURYALUS      . 217 

By  F.  Storr 

ULYSSES  IN  HADES 224 

By  M.  M.  Bird 

CIRCE'S  PALACE 232 

By  Nathaniel  Hawthorne 

ULYSSES  AND  THE  CYCLOPS 262 

By  Hope  Moncrieff 


Contents  vii 

PAGE 

THE  SIRENS 271 

By  V.  C.  Turnbull 

THE  STORY  OF  NAUSICAA 275 

By  M.  M.  Bird 

THE  HOMECOMING  OF  ULYSSES 283 

By  M.  M.  Bird 

BAUCIS  AND  PHILEMON 292 

By  H.  P.  Maskell 

HYPERMNESTRA 296 

By  V.  C.  Turnbull 

OEDIPUS  AT  COLONOS 302 

By  Mrs.  Guy  E.  Lloyd 

MIDAS 308 

By  H.  P.  Maskell 

PERSEUS  AND  ANDROMEDA 313 

By  V.  C.  Turnbull 

MELEAGER  AND  ATALANTA 320 

By  H.  P.  Maskell 

THE  STORY  OF  D^DALUS  AND  ICARUS 326 

By  M.  M.  Bird 

SCYLLA,    THE    DAUGHTER   OF    NlSUS 330 

By  Mrs.  Guy  E.  Lloyd 

THE  STORY  OF  PYRAMUS  AND  THISBE 340 

By  M.  M.  Bird 

HERO  AND  LEANDER 344 

By  Mrs.  Guy  E.  Lloyd 

PYGMALION  AND  THE  IMAGE 352 

By  F.  Storr 

CEPHALUS  AND  PROCRIS 359 

By  H.  P.  Maskell 

ECHO  AND  NARCISSUS 364 

By  Thomas  Bulfinch 

THE  RING  OF  POLYCRATES 369 

By  M.  M.  Bird 

ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 375 

By  Mrs.  Guy  E.  Lloyd 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

HERCULES  AND  THE  GOLDEN  APPLES Frontispiece 

FACING    PAGE 

THE  STORY  OF  DAPHNE 26 

HERCULES  AND  NESSUS 108 

THESEUS  GOES  TO  SLAY  THE  MINOTAUR 138 

^ENEAS   IN  HADES 212 

ULYSSES  AND  THE  CYCLOPS 266 

PERSEUS  AND  ANDROMEDA 316 

ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 380 


HALF  A  HUNDRED  HERO  TALES 

PLUTO  AND  PROSERPINE 

BY  H.  P.  MASKELL 

IN  the  very  heart  of  Sicily  are  the  groves  of  Enna — 
a  land  of  flowers  and  rippling  streams,  where  the 
spring-tide  lasts  all  through  the  year.  Thither  Proser 
pine,  daughter  of  Ceres,  betook  herself  with  her  maidens 
to  gather  nosegays  of  violets  and  lilies.  Eager  to  secure 
the  choicest  posy,  she  had  wandered  far  from  her  com 
panions,  when  Pluto,  issuing,  as  was  his  wont,  from  his 
realm  of  shadows  to  visit  the  earth,  beheld  her,  and  was 
smitten  by  her  childlike  beauty.  Dropping  her  flowers 
in  alarm,  the  maiden  screamed  for  her  mother  and  at 
tendants.  'Twas  in  vain;  the  lover  seized  her  and  bore 
her  away  in  his  chariot  of  coal-black  steeds.  Faster  and 
faster  sped  the  team  as  their  swart  master  called  to  each 
by  name  and  shook  the  reins  on  their  necks.  Through 
deep  lakes  they  sped,  by  dark  pools  steaming  with  vol 
canic  heat,  and  on  past  the  twin  harbors  of  Syracuse. 

When  they  came  to  the  abode  of  Cyane,  the  nymph 
rose  up  from  her  crystal  pool  and  perceived  Pluto. 
"  No  farther  shalt  thou  go !  "  she  cried.  "  A  maiden  must 
be  asked  of  her  parents,  not  stolen  away  against  her 
mother's  will !  "  For  answer  the  wrathful  son  of  Saturn 
lashed  his  foam-flecked  steeds.  He  hurled  his  royal  scep 
ter  into  the  very  bed  of  the  stream.  Forthwith  the  earth 


2  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

opened,' 1  freaking  'a /way,  'down  into  Tartarus;  and  the 
chariot  vanished 'through  the  yawning  cave,  leaving  Cyane 
disso^v-e^ni  jte^rs  of:  grief  for  the  ravished  maiden  and 
her  own  slighted  domain. 

Meanwhile  Ceres,  anxious  mother,  had  heard  her 
daughter's  cry  for  help.  Through  every  clime  and  every 
sea  she  sought  and  sought  in  vain.  From  dawn  to  dewy 
eve  she  sought,  and  by  night  she  pursued  the  quest  with 
torches  kindled  by  the  flames  of  y£tna.  Then,  by  Enna's 
lake,  she  found  the  scattered  flowers  and  shreds  of  the 
torn  robe,  but  further  traces  there  were  none. 

Weary  and  overcome  with  thirst,  she  chanced  on  a 
humble  cottage  and  begged  at  the  door  for  a  cup  of  water. 
The  goodwife  brought  out  a  pitcher  of  home-made  barley 
wine,  which  she  drained  at  a  draught.  An  impudent  boy 
jeered  at  the  goddess,  and  called  her  "  toss-pot."  Dire 
and  swift  was  the  punishment  that  overtook  him.  Ceres 
sprinkled  over  him  the  few  drops  that  remained ;  and, 
changed  into  a  speckled  newt,  he  crept  away  into  a 
cranny. 

Too  long  would  be  the  tale  of  all  the  lands  and  seas 
where  the  goddess  sought  for  her  child.  When  she  had 
visited  every  quarter  of  the  world  she  returned  once 
more  to  Sicily.  Cyane,  had  she  not  melted  away  in  her 
grief,  might  have  told  all.  Still,  however,  on  Cyane's 
pool  the  girdle  of  Proserpine  was  found  floating,  and  thus 
the  mother  knew  that  her  daughter  had  been  carried  off 
by  force.  When  this  was  brought  home  to  her,  she  tore 
her  hair  and  beat  her  breast.  Not  as  yet  did  she  know  the 
whole  truth,  but  she  vowed  vengeance  against  all  the 
earth,  and  on  Sicily  most  of  all,  the  land  of  her  bereave 
ment.  No  longer,  she  complained,  was  ungrateful  man 
worthy  of  her  gifts  of  golden  grain. 


Pluto  and  Proserpine  3 

A  famine  spread  through  all  the  land.  Plowshares 
broke  while  they  were  turning  the  clods,  the  oxen  died  of 
pestilence,  and  blight  befell  the  green  corn.  An  army  of 
birds  picked  up  the  seed  as  fast  as  it  was  sown ;  thistles, 
charlock,  and  tares  sprang  up  in  myriads  and  choked  the 
fields  before  the  ear  could  show  itself. 

Then  Arethusa,  the  river  nymph,  who  had  traveled 
far  beneath  the  ocean  to  meet  in  Sicily  her  lover  Alpheus, 
raised  her  head  in  pity  for  the  starving  land,  and  cried 
to  Ceres :  "  O  mourning  mother,  cease  thy  useless  quest, 
and  be  not  angered  with  a  land  which  is  faithful  to  thee. 
While  I  was  wandering  by  the  river  Styx  I  beheld  thy 
Proserpine.  Her  looks  were  grave,  yet  not  as  of  one 
forlorn.  Take  comfort !  She  is  a  queen,  and  chiefest  of 
those  who  dwell  in  the  world  of  darkness.  She  is  the 
bride  of  the  infernal  king." 

Ceres  was  but  half  consoled,  and  her  wrath  was  turned 
from  Sicily  to  the  bold  ravisher  of  her  daughter.  She 
hastened  to  Olympus,  and  laid  her  plaint  before  Jupiter. 
She  urged  that  her  daughter  must  be  restored  to  her. 
If  only  Pluto  would  resign  possession  of  Proserpine,  she 
would  forgive  the  ravisher. 

Jupiter  answered  mildly :  "  This  rape  of  the  god  lover 
can  scarce  be  called  an  injury.  Pluto  is  my  brother,  and 
like  me  a  king,  except  that  he  reigns  below,  whereas  I 
reign  above.  Give  your  consent,  and  he  will  be  no  dis 
grace  as  a  son-in-law." 

Still  Ceres  was  resolved  to  fetch  her  daughter  back,  and 
Jupiter  at  length  agreed  that  it  should  be  so  on  condition 
that  Proserpine,  during  her  sojourn  in  the  shades,  had 
allowed  no  food  to  pass  her  lips. 

In  joy  the  mother  hurried  down  to  Tartarus  and  de 
manded  her  daughter.  But  the  fates  were  against  her. 


4  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

The  damsel  had  broken  her  fast.  As  she  wandered  in  the 
fair  gardens  of  Elysium  she  had  picked  a  pomegranate 
from  the  bending  tree,  and  had  eaten  seven  of  the  sweet 
purple  seeds.  Only  one  witness  had  seen  her  in  the 
fatal  act.  This  was  Ascalaphus,  a  courtier  of  Pluto,  who 
some  say  had  first  put  it  into  the  mind  of  the  king  to 
carry  off  Proserpine.  In  revenge  for  this  betrayal,  Ceres 
changed  him  into  an  owl,  and  doomed  him  ever  after  to  be 
a  bird  of  ill-omen  who  cannot  bear  the  light  of  day,  and 
whose  nightly  hooting  portends  ill  tidings  to  mortals. 

But  Ceres  was  not  doomed  to  lose  Proserpine  utterly. 
Jupiter  decreed  that  for  six  months  of  each  year  her 
daughter  was  to  reign  in  dark  Tartarus  by  Pluto's  side ; 
for  the  other  six  months  she  was  to  return  to  earth  and 
dwell  with  her  mother.  Joy  returned  to  the  mother's 
saddened  heart;  the  barren  earth  at  her  bidding  once 
more  brought  forth  its  increase.  Soon  the  fields  were 
smiling  with  golden  corn,  and  the  mellow  grapes  hung 
heavy  on  the  vines,  and  once  again  that  favored  land 
became  the  garden  of  the  world. 


PAN  AND  SYRINX 

BY  MRS.  GUY  E.  LLOYD 

TONG  ages  ago  in  the  pleasant  land  of  Arcadia,  where 
J— /  the  kindly  shepherds  fed  their  flocks  on  the  green 
hills,  there  lived  a  fair  maiden  named  Syrinx.  Even  as 
a  tiny  child  she  loved  to  toddle  forth  from  her  father's 
house  and  lose  herself  in  the  quiet  woods.  Often  were 
they  forced  to  seek  long  and  far  before  they  found  her, 
when  the  dew  was  falling  and  the  stars  coming  out  in 
the  dark  blue  sky;  but  however  late  it  was,  they  never 
found  her  afraid  nor  eager  to  be  safe  at  home.  Some 
times  she  was  curled  up  on  the  soft  moss  under  the 
shelter  of  a  spreading  tree,  fast  asleep;  sometimes  she 
was  lying  by  the  side  of  a  stream  listening  to  the  merry 
laughter  of  the  water ;  sometimes,  sitting  over  the  stones 
upon  the  hillside,  she  would  be  watching  with  wonder 
and  delight  the  lady  moon,  with  her  bright  train  of  clouds, 
racing  across  the  sky  as  if  in  hot  chase. 

Years  passed  on,  and  Syrinx  grew  into  a  tall  and 
slender  maiden,  with  long  fair  hair  and  great  gray  eyes, 
with  a  look  in  them  that  made  her  seem  to  be  always 
listening.  Out  in  the  woods  there  are  so  many  sounds 
for  any  one  who  has  ears  to  hear — the  different  notes 
of  the  birds,  the  hum  of  the  insects,  the  swift,  light  rustle 
as  some  furry  four-legged  hunter  creeps  through  the 
underwood.  Then  there  is  the  pleasant,  happy  murmur 
of  the  breeze  among  the  leaves,  with  a  different  sound 
in  it  for  every  different  tree,  or  the  wild  shriek  of  the 

5 


6  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

gale  that  rends  the  straining  branches,  or  the  bubbling 
of  the  spring,  or  the  prattle  of  the  running  stream,  or  the 
plash  of  the  waterfall.  Many  are  the  sounds  of  the  woods, 
and  Syrinx  knew  and  loved  them  all  until 

"  Beauty  born  of  murmuring  sound, 
Had  passed  into  her  face." 

"  Have  a  care,  Syrinx,"  her  playfellows  would  say 
sometimes.  "  If  you  wander  alone  in  the  woods,  some 
day  you  will  see  the  terrible  god  Pan." 

"  I  should  like  well  to  see  him,"  the  maiden  made 
answer  one  day  to  an  old  crone  who  thus  warned  her. 
"  The  great  god  Pan  loves  the  woods  and  everything  that 
lives  in  them,  and  so  do  I.  We  must  needs  be  friends  if 
we  meet." 

The  old  woman  looked  at  her  in  horror  and  amaze. 
"  You  know  not  what  you  say,  child,"  she  made  answer. 
"  Some  aver  that  none  can  look  upon  Pan  and  live,  but  of 
that  I  am  none  so  sure,  for  I  have  heard  of  shepherds  to 
whom  he  has  spoken  graciously,  and  they  never  the 
worse  for  it.  But  of  this  there  is  no  doubt — whoever 
hears  the  shout  of  Pan  runs  mad  with  the  sound  of  it. 
So  be  not  too  venturesome,  or  evil  will  come  of  it." 

Now  Syrinx  might  have  taken  warning  from  these  wise 
and  kindly  words.  As  it  was,  she  treasured  them,  and 
only  wondered  what  this  god  could  be  like,  the  sound  of 
whose  shout  made  men  run  mad.  She  feared  to  see  him, 
and  would  have  run  swiftly  away  if  she  had  caught  a 
glimpse  of  him,  and  yet  she  went  continually  to  the  far 
and  silent  groves  whither,  so  the  shepherds  said,  Pan 
was  most  wont  to  resort. 

It  chanced  one  day  that  Syrinx  had  wandered  farther 
than  was  her  wont ;  she  had  been  in  the  woods  since  day- 


Pan  and  Syrinx  7 

break,  and  now  it  was  high  noon.  She  was  tired  and  hot, 
and  lay  down  to  rest  on  a  bank  beneath  a  tall  ash  tree  that 
was  all  covered  with  ivy,  and  resting  there  she  soon  fell 
fast  asleep.  While  she  slept  the  wild  things  of  the  woods 
came  to  look  upon  her  with  wonder.  A  doe  that  was 
passing  with  her  fawn  stood  for  a  moment  gazing  mildly 
upon  the  maiden,  and  the  fawn  stooped  and  licked  her 
fingers,  but  at  the  touch  Syrinx  stirred  in  her  sleep  and 
both  doe  and  fawn  bounded  away  among  the  bushes. 
A  little  squirrel  dropped  lightly  from  a  tree  and  sat  up 
close  beside  her,  his  tail  curled  jauntily  over  his  back,  his 
bright  eyes  fixed  upon  her  face.  The  little  furry  rabbits 
first  peeped  at  her  out  of  their  holes,  and  then  growing 
bolder  came  quite  close  and  sat  with  their  soft  paws 
tucked  down  and  their  ears  cocked  very  stiffly,  listening 
to  her  quiet  breathing.  And  last  of  all,  stepping  noise 
lessly  over  the  grass,  came  the  lord  of  all  the  wild  things, 
the  great  god  Pan  himself. 

His  legs  and  feet  were  like  those  of  a  goat,  so  that  he 
could  move  more  quickly  and  lightly  than  the  wild 
gazelle,  and  his  ears  were  long  and  pointed — ears  like 
those  of  a  squirrel,  so  that  he  could  hear  the  stirring  of 
a  nestling  not  yet  out  of  its  egg.  Softly  he  drew  nigh  to 
the  maiden,  and  there  was  a  wicked  smile  in  his  bright 
dark  eyes.  But  as  he  bent  to  look  into  her  face  she 
stirred,  and  he  leapt  lightly  back  and  sat  himself  down 
a  little  space  from  her,  leaning  on  his  arm  among  the 
brushwood  till  he  was  half  hidden  from  her.  Beside  him 
lay  a  great  bough  torn  from  the  tree  by  some  winter 
storm;  Pan  drew  this  to  him  and  began  to  cut  from  it  a 
piece  of  wood  whereof  to  fashion  a  dainty  little  drinking- 
cup.  And  lying  there,  cutting  at  the  wood,  Pan  began 
to  whistle  low  and  sweetly  to  himself,  just  as  though 


8  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

he  had  been  some  shepherd  or  huntsman  resting  in  the 
shade. 

At  first  the  soft  notes  made  for  the  half-awakened 
maiden  a  dream  of  singing  birds  and  rippling  water; 
then  her  drowsy  eyes  unclosed  and  she  became  aware  of 
a  bearded  face  turned  half  away  from  her  and  bent  over 
some  sort  of  work.  For  a  time  she  lay  still,  and  Pan 
forebore  to  glance  at  her,  but  cut  away  at  the  piece  of 
wood  he  was  fashioning,  and  whistled  to  himself  as 
though  he  had  not  marked  the  maiden. 

Presently,  broad  awake,  Syrinx  raised  herself  upon  her 
elbow  and  gazed  full  upon  the  stranger,  who  glanced 
round  at  her  in  a  careless,  friendly  way,  and  nodded  to 
her  with  a  kindly  smile. 

"  Thou  hast  slept  well,  fair  maiden,"  said  Pan,  in  a 
low,  gentle  voice,  that  sounded  like  the  far-off  murmur 
of  a  winter  torrent. 

And  Syrinx,  reassured  by  the  gleam  of  the  merry  dark 
eyes,  made  answer :  "  Yea,  fair  sir,  for  I  had  wandered 
far,  and  was  aweary." 

"  How  hast  thou  dared  to  wander  so  far  from  the 
haunts  of  men  ?  "  asked  the  sylvan  god,  "  Art  thou  not 
afeard  of  all  that  might  meet  thee  here  in  the  deep 
forest?" 

"  I  fear  none  of  the  wild  things  of  the  wood,"  an 
swered  Syrinx  simply,  "  for  none  has  ever  done  me  hurt. 
If  thou  art,  as  I  judge  thee,  a  hunter,  thou  knowest  that 
it  is  through  fear  alone  that  the  beasts  of  the  forest  do 
harm  to  man.  But  I  move  ever  quietly  among  them,  and 
do  not  startle  them,  and  they  go  on  their  ways  and  leave 
me  in  peace." 

"  Thou  art  passing  wise,"  said  Pan ;  "  there  are  few 
indeed  of  thy  years  who  have  attained  to  thy  knowledge. 


Pan  and  Syrinx  9 

When  a  man  perceives  a  rustling  in  the  brushwood  he 
flings  his  spear  at  the  place;  while  women,  for  the  most 
part,  scream  and  flee.  But  the  fearless  may  walk  quiet 
and  unharmed  through  the  depths  of  the  forest." 

"  There  is  one  fear  in  my  heart,  kind  stranger,"  said 
Syrinx  earnestly.  "  There  be  shepherds  who  say  that  in 
these  forest  paths  they  have  seen  and  spoken  with  the 
great  god  Pan  himself.  But  some  say  that  it  is  death  to 
see  him,  and  all  say  that  men  run  mad  at  the  sound  of 
his  shout.  How  thinkest  thou?  Hast  thou  ever  caught 
a  glimpse  of  him?  " 

There  was  a  merry  twinkle  in  those  dancing  eyes  as  the 
stranger  made  answer :  "  Nay,  maiden,  I  have  never  seen 
him  of  whom  thou  speakest ;  but  cast  away  thy  last  fear, 
for  sure  I  am  that  the  sight  of  him  is  not  death  to  any 
living  thing.  He  loves  and  cares  for  all  that  hath  life; 
and  as  for  his  shout,  that  is  only  heard  in  battle,  for  he 
never  cries  aloud  save  in  wrath,  and  then  indeed  it  brings 
confusion  to  his  enemies  or  to  those  who  withstand  him, 
but  to  his  friends  it  brings  courage  and  triumph." 

Syrinx  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief,  and  lay  back  again,  one 
arm  under  her  head,  her  long  fair  hair  rippling  over 
her  shoulder,  and  her  beautiful  gray  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
face  of  the  stranger. 

Pan  gazed  upon  her,  and  crept  a  little  nearer  through 
the  brushwood. 

"  Sure  I  am  that  thou  art  as  wise  as  thou  art  kind, 
fair  stranger,"  said  the  innocent  maiden.  "  There  has 
ever  been  within  me  a  secret  thought  that  Pan,  the  lord 
of  all  the  wild  things  of  the  wood,  could  not  be  fierce  and 
cruel  as  men  said,  and  ever  have  I  been  assured  that  could 
I  meet  and  speak  with  him  I  should  love  him  well." 

"  Love,  love,  love,  love,"  said  the  deep  soft  voice  of  the 


io  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

great  god  Pan.  "  Every  tree,  every  flower,  every  bird, 
every  beast  lives  for  nothing  else.  Dost  thou  indeed 
understand  what  thou  sayest,  fair  maiden  ?  " 

And  the  girl  nodded  her  pretty  head  wisely,  for  she 
quite  thought  she  did.  "  Yea,  kind  stranger,"  she  an 
swered,  "  for  when  I  look  into  the  eyes  of  one  to  whom 
I  have  never  yet  spoken  a  word,  I  know  at  once  whether 
his  speech  and  company  are  like  to  be  pleasant  to  me,  or 
whether  I  would  have  him  pass  on  and  speak  no  word. 
When  I  lay  half  asleep  but  now,  and  listened  to  your 
merry  whistling,  I  could  feel  within  me  that  it  was  a 
sweet  and  a  friendly  sound,  and  good  to  hear.  It  was 
like  the  speech  of  the  forest,  which  I  have  loved  since  I 
was  a  baby." 

Pan  laughed  gently  to  himself  as  he  fashioned  his 
wooden  cup ;  but  there  was  a  new  gleam  in  his  downcast 
eyes,  and  when  next  he  glanced  at  her  Syrinx  saw  the 
change,  and  a  vague  uneasiness  awoke  in  her.  She  looked 
at  the  sky,  already  beginning  to  glow  with  the  radiance 
of  the  setting  sun. 

"  It  grows  late,"  she  said ;  "  I  must  away,  for  I  have 
far  to  go  ere  night- fall.  Farewell,  gentle  stranger." 

"  Nay,  but  stay  a  little  longer,"  said  Pan  gently.  "  I 
know  every  path  of  the  forest,  and  if  the  darkness  falls 
upon  thee  I  can  guide  thee  safely,  never  fear." 

But  the  maiden  feared  the  more,  as  she  sprang  to  her 
feet. 

"  Nay,  I  must  tarry  no  longer,"  she  said  hastily ;  "  it  is 
already  over-late."  Tossing  her  hair  back  from  her 
flushed  face  she  sprang  away  down  the  slope  like  a 
frightened  fawn. 

Forgetting  all  but  his  wish  to  stay  her  Pan  leapt  up 
to  follow  her,  and  glancing  back  over  her  shoulder 


Pan  and  Syrinx  n 

Syrinx  saw  his  goat  feet,  and  knew  with  whom  she  had 
been  speaking.  With  a  sudden  start  she  plunged  into  the 
brushwood,  and  as  she  disappeared  from  his  sight  Pan, 
anxious  only  to  bring  her  back,  uttered  a  mighty  cry. 

The  sound  smote  upon  the  ear  of  the  terrified  maiden, 
and  her  brain  reeled.  With  one  wild  shriek  of  terror  she 
turned  and  fled,  and  before  even  those  swift  goat's  feet 
could  overtake  her  she  had  plunged  into  the  river,  and 
was  gone — a  reed  lost  among  the  river-reeds. 

And  the  great  god  Pan  sat  down  upon  the  river  bank 
sorrowful  and  baffled;  and  as  he  gazed  upon  the  water, 
flushed  with  the  light  of  the  setting  sun,  he  saw  the  very 
bank  of  water-reeds  where  Syrinx  had  disappeared. 
Slender  and  graceful  they  were,  as  the  maiden  who  was 
gone,  and  they  trembled  as  she  had  done  when  she  looked 
behind  and  saw  who  was  her  pursuer,  and  their  tufted 
heads,  golden  in  the  evening  light,  reminded  Pan  of  the 
golden  hair  of  Syrinx.  He  stepped  forward  to  the  edge 
of  the  water,  and  stooping,  plucked  a  handful  of  the 
reeds.  They  snapped  with  a  sharp  crack  in  his  strong 
fingers,  and  as  he  looked  down  at  them  he  sighed  deeply. 
His  sigh  came  back  to  him  with  a  low  musical  note,  and 
Pan  went  back  to  the  bank,  and  sitting  himself  down  he 
scanned  and  fingered  tenderly  the  hollow  stalks.  Long 
did  he  sit  there  with  his  newly  found  treasure;  the  sun 
went  down,  the  crimson  clouds  turned  to  dark  lines 
across  the  pale  saffron  sky,  the  full  moon  rose  slowly 
from  behind  the  hill,  and  still  Pan  bent  over  his  handful 
of  water-reeds,  and  breathed  upon  them  this  way  and 
that,  and  cut  and  fashioned  them  with  care. 

Next  day  the  shepherds  were  all  abroad  in  the  woods 
searching  for  Syrinx,  but  of  her  they  found  no  trace; 
only,  as  they  moved  hither  and  thither,  they  heard  sweet 


12  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

and  strange  and  far-off  music.  It  was  as  if  all  the 
sounds  of  the  forest  had  been  modulated  and  harmonized ; 
now  it  swelled  and  grew  loud  and  joyous,  and  now  it 
died  away  in  pitiful  lamenting.  It  was  Pan,  playing  upon 
the  sevenfold  pipe  that  he  had  made,  and  when  at  length 
he  gave  it  to  the  sons  of  men,  and  taught  them  to  play 
upon  it  too,  he  gave  it  the  name  of  Syrinx,  the  beautiful 
and  hapless  maiden  whom  he  had  loved  and  lost. 


THE  STORY  OF  PHAETON 

BY  M.  M.  BIRD 

A  FIERY  and  high-spirited  youth,  Phaeton  could  not 
brook  the  taunts  of  his  playmate  Epaphus,  who 
claimed  divine  descent  from  Isis.  When  Phaeton  boasted 
that  his  father  was  Phoebus  the  Sun-god,  Epaphus  only 
laughed  and  called  him  a  base-born  pretender.  So  one 
day  Phaeton,  stung  to  madness  by  these  taunts,  went 
boldly  to  his  mother  Clymene  and  demanded  that  she 
should  give  him  some  clear  proof  that  he  was  indeed,  as 
she  averred,  the  very  son  of  Phoebus.  Clymene  lifted 
her  beautiful  hands  to  the  Sun,  who  rode  gorgeous  in 
the  Heavens,  and  swore  by  him  that  none  other  than 
Phoebus  was  the  father  of  the  boy.  "  Nevertheless,"  said 
she,  "  if  this  doth  suffice  you  not,  and  you  seek  other 
proof,  travel  yourself  to  his  Eastern  Mansion,  which  lies 
not  so  far  remote  from  here,  and  ask  him  whether  you  are 
not  his  son." 

The  ambitious  youth  hastened  to  follow  her  counsel ;  he 
longed  to  see  his  father,  and  to  visit  the  Eastern  Man 
sion  where  he  abode.  Through  India  he  traveled  in 
haste,  never  resting  till  afar  off  he  saw  the  wondrous 
light  that  shimmered  perpetually  over  the  Palace  of  the 
Sun. 

High  it  stood  on  columns  of  burnished  gold  ablaze 
with  jewels.  The  folding  doors  were  of  silver,  the  walls 
of  ivory,  and  Vulcan  had  wrought  the  precious  metals  in 

13 


14  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

designs  of  wonderful  beauty.  The  seas,  the  earth,  the 
fair  forms  of  the  immortal  gods,  all  graced  the  carven 
portals. 

Phaeton,  toiling  up  the  steep  ascent,  saw  at  a  great  dis 
tance  the  dazzling  god,  seated  high  on  an  imperial  throne, 
all  sparkling  with  gems.  The  Hours,  Days,  Months,  and 
Years,  were  ranged  on  either  hand.  He  saw  Spring  decked 
in  flowers,  Summer  with  her  garner  of  grain,  Autumn 
bowed  beneath  his  burden  of  grapes  and  fruits,  and 
hoary  Winter  shivering  behind  them.  The  all-beholding 
eye  of  the  god  perceived  him  from  afar,  and  before  he 
had  spoken  a  word,  a  voice  from  the  throne  bade  him 
welcome:  "  What  wants  my  son?  For  my  son  thou  art." 
Thus  encouraged,  the  youth,  though  dazzled  by  the  ex 
ceeding  brightness,  poured  out  his  tale  and  proffered 
his  petition. 

The  god  was  touched  by  his  tale  of  wrong.  Flinging 
aside  the  awful  glories  that  surrounded  him,  he  bade  his 
son  advance,  and  embraced  him  with  tenderness. 

"  Make  of  me  some  request,"  he  said,  "  and  to  convince 
thee  that  I  am  thy  father,  I  swear  by  Styx  to  grant  it, 
whate'er  it  be." 

The  youth  was  transported  with  delight,  and  asked  at 
once  to  be  permitted  to  guide  the  Sun's  bright  chariot 
for  one  day. 

Phoebus  was  grieved  beyond  measure  at  the  young 
man's  rash  ambition,  and  bitterly  repented  of  his  oath; 
but  even  a  god,  when  he  has  sworn  by  Styx,  cannot  take 
back  or  annul  that  awful  oath. 

"  Ask  of  me  some  other  proof,"  he  begged.  "  Too  vast 
and  hazardous  this  task  for  thy  strength  and  years.  Not 
one  of  all  the  gods — not  Jupiter  himself,  ruler  of  the 
sky — dares  mount  that  burning  chariot,  save  I  alone !  " 


The  Story  of  Phaeton  15 

He  told  him  how  with  pain  and  labor  the  wild  steeds 
climb  up  the  arc  of  the  sky — how  from  the  topmost  pin 
nacles  of  Heaven  the  Earth  and  Ocean  lie  so  far  beneath 
that  even  he  himself  is  sometimes  seized  with  giddiness 
and  his  brain  reels.  And  when  down  the  steep  descent 
of  the  western  sky  the  horses  plunge  headlong,  it  needs  a 
strong  and  steady  hand  to  check  them  in  their  course. 
He  told  him  how,  through  all  his  daily  task,  the  brave 
Sun  has  to  front  the  opposing  forces  of  the  Bear,  the 
Scorpion,  and  the  Dog  Star,  and  guide  his  steeds  among 
their  influences.  Through  a  thousand  snares  his  progress 
lies,  with  forms  of  starry  monsters  ready  to  devour  him 
if  he  strays  by  a  hair's  breadth  from  the  appointed  way. 
And  the  very  horses  themselves,  when  their  mettle  is  up, 
are  a  team  that  only  a  god  may  control.  "  My  son,"  he 
besought  him,  "  do  not  require  of  me  a  fatal  gift." 

But  the  fond  father  pleaded  in  vain.  The  bold  youth 
was  unaffrighted,  and  the  oath  was  binding. 

The  time  had  come:  Aurora  heralded  the  new  day. 
The  golden  chariot  made  by  Vulcan  was  drawn  forth ;  the 
spokes  of  the  wheels  were  of  silver,  its  seat  was  starred 
with  gems. 

The  nimble  Hours  brought  forth  from  their  stalls  the 
fiery  steeds. 

With  last  words  of  warning  and  advice,  the  father 
bade  his  son  farewell,  and  watched  him  wend  forth  on 
his  perilous  journey.  The  youth  leaped  into  the  seat,  he 
gathered  up  the  reins,  and  gave  his  father  such  praise 
and  thanks  for  his  indulgence  as  cut  him  to  the  heart. 

The  horses  neighed  and  pranced,  breathing  fire  from 
their  distended  nostrils.  They  sprang  out  through  the 
gates  of  Dawn  and  flew  over  the  clouds,  leaving  the  light 
breezes  of  Morn  far  behind  them. 


1 6  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

The  youth  was  light ;  he  could  not  poise  or  weight  the 
chariot  as  did  its  accustomed  rider.  The  bounding  car 
was  tossed  to  and  fro,  the  sport  of  winds  and  currents. 
Wildly  they  hurtled  headlong  up  the  sky.  The  steeds 
perceived  the  lighter  weight,  the  weaker  hands.  They 
plunged,  and  plunging,  left  the  stated  course. 

The  youth  became  confused;  he  looked  around  him, 
but  could  no  longer  recognize  the  track.  He  did  not 
know  which  way  to  steer,  nor  would  the  horses  have 
obeyed  his  hand.  Wildly  they  careered  and  brought  the 
heat  of  midday  into  far  regions  of  the  Heavens  that  were 
unused  to  its  untempered  rays.  All  around  him  mon 
strous  threatening  shades  awoke  and  stirred  in  the 
Heavens  as  he  vexed  them  with  the  heat.  Far,  far  be 
low  the  affrighted  youth  could  see  Earth  and  Ocean 
spread  out.  But  as  his  chariot  raced  madly  down  the 
heights,  the  clouds  were  dispersed  by  his  fierce  rays,  the 
high  mountains  began  to  smoke,  the  forests  to  burn ; 
ripened  harvests  were  devoured  by  fire,  whole  cities  were 
turned  to  ashes.  Pindus  and  Parnassus  were  steaming, 
the  fountains  of  Mount  Ida  were  dried  up,  and  y£tna 
raged  with  redoubled  heat.  Even  the  towering  Apen 
nines  and  Caucasus  lost  their  snows,  and  the  huge  Alps 
were  one  range  of  living  flame. 

The  horrified  youth  beheld  the  universe  burn  around 
him,  and  he  could  scarce  endure  the  sultry  vapors  that 
rose  about  him  as  from  a  furnace.  Lost  in  clouds  of  whirl 
ing  smoke  and  ashes,  the  steeds  careered  madly  to  and 
fro,  he  knew  not  whither.  It  is  said  that  in  that  day  the 
Moor  began  to  change  his  hue  and  turn  black,  and  Libya 
and  all  the  deserts  of  Africa  were  then  first  drained  of 
their  moisture  and  left  in  great  tracts  of  parching  sandy 
waste.  The  great  rivers,  the  Ganges,  Euphrates,  and  the 


The  Story  of  Phaeton  17 

Danube,  rose  up  in  clouds  of  hissing  steam,  and  the 
frightened  Nile  ran  off  and  hid  his  head  in  the  sands, 
and  there  for  centuries  and  centuries  it  has  lain  hid. 

Stern  Neptune,  in  amazement  and  anger,  thrice  reared 
his  head  above  the  shrinking  waves  where  his  fishes  all 
were  dying,  and  thrice  the  fierce  flames  drove  him  back. 

At  length  Earth,  wrapped  in  her  scalding  seas,  up 
lifting  her  scorching  brows,  appealed  to  Jupiter. 

"  See  how  fierce  vapors  choke  my  breath ;  see  my 
singed  hair,  my  withered  face,  the  heaps  of  cinders  that 
defile  my  fair  body.  .  .  .  Have  pity." 

Jupiter  heard  her  prayer.  He  mounted  his  high 
ethereal  throne,  called  all  powers,  even  the  god  whose 
son  drove  the  chariot,  to  witness  that  what  he  did  he 
was  compelled  to  do,  and  launched  a  thunderbolt  at  the 
head  of  the  despairing  Phaeton. 

Thus  with  fire  the  god  of  gods  suppressed  the  raging 
fire.  Lifeless  from  the  chariot  the  boy  fell  like  a  falling 
star,  and  his  charred  body  dropped  to  the  earth  far  from 
his  own  land,  far  in  the  western  world,  beside  the  river 
Po. 

The  horses  broke  loose  from  their  harness,  the  chariot 
was  splintered  into  a  thousand  shining  fragments  and 
scattered  far  over  the  steaming  earth. 

And  the  story  goes,  that  for  the  space  of  one  whole 
day,  from  morn  till  eve,  the  world  existed  without  a  sun, 
lighted  only  by  the  lurid  glare  of  the  burning  ruins. 

Beside  the  waters  of  the  river  the  Latian  nymphs  came 
round  and  gazed  with  awe  upon  the  dead  youth.  His 
charred  body  they  inclosed  in  a  marble  urn  and  wrote 
on  it  an  epitaph: 

"  Here  lies  a  youth  as  beautiful  as  brave, 
Who  through  the  heavens  his  father's  chariot  drave." 


1 8  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

His  mother  Clymene,  frantic  with  grief,  ceased  not  to 
roam  the  world,  followed  by  her  weeping  daughters,  until 
at  last  she  came  to  the  banks  of  Po,  and  found  there  the 
sculptured  urn.  She  hung  above  it,  bedewing  the  marble 
with  her  tears,  crying  aloud  the  name  so  dear  to  her. 
Her  daughters  stood  around,  weeping  and  lamenting 
with  her.  All  night  long  they  kept  their  watch,  and 
returning  day  found  them  still  calling  on  their  brother's 
name.  Four  days  and  nights  they  kept  their  stand,  till 
at  length,  when  for  their  weariness  they  would  have 
sought  rest,  they  found  they  could  not  move.  Phaethusa's 
arms  were  covered  with  hardening  bark  and  branching 
boughs ;  Lampetia  stood  rooted  to  the  ground ;  ^Egle,  as 
she  tore  her  hair,  only  filled  her  hands  with  leaves.  While 
their  faces  were  yet  untransformed,  they  cried  to  their 
mother  for  help.  But,  alas!  she  was  powerless.  She 
tore  the  bark  from  their  fair  bodies,  she  stripped  the 
leaves  from  their  sprouting  fingers,  she  clung  to  their 
hardening  limbs  in  vain.  Only  blood  came  trickling 
where  she  tore  away  the  leaves  and  bark,  and  in  faint 
voices  the  maidens  cried  that  she  only  wounded  her 
daughters  when  she  tore  their  trees. 

Then  the  bark  covered  their  fair  faces,  and  they  stood 
for  ever  dumb,  waving  green  boughs  in  the  sun,  while 
tears  of  amber  rolled  slowly  down  the  encrusting  bark. 


ARETHUSA 

BY  V.   C.   TURNBULL 

TORD  of  all  waters  was  Oceanus,  the  ancient  Titan 
I  4  god,  whose  beard,  like  a  foaming  cataract,  swept  to 
his  girdle.  Many  fair  daughters  had  he,  of  whom  poets 
sing,  yet  the  fairest  of  all  was  the  nymph  Arethusa.  She 
had  not  lacked  for  wooers,  but  she  shunned  the  haunts  of 
men  and  abode  on  the  Acroceraunian  heights  whence  she 
had  sprung,  or  when  she  descended  to  the  plain  hid  her 
self  in  tangled  bushes  and  overhanging  alders.  She  loved 
the  quiet  woodland  ways,  and  had  vowed  herself  to  the 
chaste  huntress  Diana,  and  in  her  train  loved  to  fleet 
through  the  woods  and  over  the  plains  of  Achaia,  chasing 
the  flying  deer. 

Now  it  happened  one  day  that  Arethusa,  wearied  with 
hunting  and  with  the  great  heat,  wandered  alone  among 
the  woods  and  meadows,  seeking  a  place  of  rest.  Pres 
ently  she  heard  the  ripple  of  waters,  and  soon  she  came 
to  a  river  flowing  between  straight  poplars  and  hoary 
willows.  Swiftly  and  quietly  it  ran,  making  no  eddies, 
and  so  pure  were  its  waters  that  she  could  count  the 
pebbles  lying  in  its  deep  bed  like  jewels  in  an  open 
casket. 

Joyfully  then  the  tired  maiden  unbound  her  sandals, 
and,  sitting  down  upon  the  bank,  dipped  her  white  feet 
in  the  cool  water.  For  a  while  she  sat  there  undis 
turbed,  and  idly  watched  the  growing  ripples  as  she 
dabbled  in  the  stream.  But  while  she  thus  rested  and 

19 


2O  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

played,  a  strange  commotion  drew  her  eyes  to  the  middle 
of  the  stream,  and  a  fear  fell  upon  her,  for  she  knew  that 
it  could  be  none  other  than  Alpheus,  the  god  of  that 
river.  Quickly  she  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  while  yet  she 
stood  trembling  and  irresolute,  a  hollow  voice  cried  to 
her  from  mid-stream.  And  (oh  marvel!)  the  voice  was 
not  terrible  like  that  of  a  god,  but  tender  and  full  of 
pleading  love. 

"  Whither  dost  thou  hasten,  Arethusa?  "  it  said.  And 
again :  "  Whither  dost  thou  hasten?  " 

But  Arethusa,  a  maiden  who  cared  nothing  for  love, 
would  be  wooed  by  neither  god  nor  man. 

Swiftly  she  fled  from  the  enchanted  spot,  even  before 
the  young  river-god  had  sprung  from  the  stream  with 
love  and  longing  in  his  eyes.  And  now  began  that  long 
chase  of  which  the  end  was  even  stranger  than  the  be 
ginning.  Arethusa,  weary  no  longer,  darted  like  a  fawn 
from  the  river,  and  Alpheus,  more  ardent  still  as  the 
maid  was  coy,  swiftly  followed  her  flying  steps.  Through 
woods  and  meadows,  over  hills  and  across  valleys — yes, 
and  past  more  than  one  city,  fled  pursuer  and  pursued. 
But  now,  as  the  day  drew  towards  sunsetting,  Arethusa's 
strong  limbs  wearied,  her  strength  flagged,  and  her  pace 
slackened,  and  in  her  sick  heart  she  knew  how  vain  a 
thing  it  is  for  a  mortal  to  strive  against  a  god.  For  no 
weariness  weighed  down  the  feet  of  Alpheus;  straight 
and  swift  he  ran  as  his  own  river.  Now  so  near  was  he 
to  the  maiden  that  his  long  shadow  fell  across  her  feet; 
but  no  faster  could  she  go,  for  the  sun  smote  fiercely  upon 
her,  and  her  strength  was  failing.  Louder  and  louder 
sounded  the  footsteps  of  the  god.  Now  she  could  feel  his 
hard  breathing  in  her  long  hair;  was  there  no  escape? 
With  her  last  strength  she  cried  to  her  sovereign  mis- 


Arethusa  2 1 

tress :  "  Help,  O  Huntress,  thy  huntress  maiden !  Aid 
her  who  so  often  carried  thy  bow  and  thine  arrows  in 
the  chase ! " 

And  the  goddess  answered  her  votary. 

For  at  once  Arethusa  was  wrapped  in  a  dense  cloud, 
so  dense  indeed  that  even  the  burning  eyes  of  her  pursuer 
could  not  pierce  it.  There,  then,  she  crouched,  like  a 
hare  on  its  form,  while  outside  she  heard  the  footsteps  of 
Alpheus  pacing  round  her  hiding-place,  searching  and 
baffled.  But  he,  having  come  so  near  his  prize,  would 
not  now  give  it  up,  and  she  knew  that  he  would  watch 
the  cloud  till  she  came  forth.  At  the  thought,  beads  of 
sweat  gathered  on  her  forehead  and  ran  down  to  her  feet. 
Faster  and  faster  it  poured;  she  was  as  ice  that  melts  in 
the  sun;  and  she  realized  with  joy  that  the  goddess  was 
opening  for  her  another  way  of  escape.  All  her  weariness 
and  terror  slid  from  her  straightway;  her  tired  limbs 
melted  into  a  liquid  ease,  and  it  was  no  maiden  but  a 
laughing  stream  that  shot  from  under  the  cloud  and  fled 
singing  towards  the  western  sea. 

But  Alpheus,  noting  the  guile  of  the  goddess,  laughed 
aloud,  for  could  he  not  at  will  become  even  as  his 
own  river?  He  changed  even  as  he  conceived  the 
thought;  and  now  the  chase  began  once  more,  only 
this  time  river  pursued  stream,  leaping  from  crag 
to  crag,  and  rushing  across  wide  wastes  of  marshy 
country. 

And  again  Arethusa,  finding  herself  in  straits,  cried 
aloud  to  her  sovereign  mistress  Diana.  And,  behold,  in 
answer  to  her  prayer,  the  earth  was  suddenly  rent 
asunder  and  a  vast  black  chasm  yawned  in  her  path. 
Into  it  she  plunged,  and  down,  down,  down  she  fell.  And 
into  it  in  pursuit  plunged  also  Alpheus,  who  loved  her 


22  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

so  well  that  he  was  ready  to  follow  her  to  the  depths  of 
the  earth. 


The  darkness  passed,  and  overhead  was  a  beautiful 
green  light,  and  on  all  sides  a  profound  and  solemn 
silence.  Arethusa  had  left  the  land  behind,  and  was 
pushing  across  the  floor  of  the  ocean.  And  behind  her 
came  the  waters  of  Alpheus.  Then  into  the  maiden 
heart,  which  as  yet  had  known  not  love,  came  something 
better  than  fear.  From  the  lover  who  could  follow  her 
even  hither  why  should  she  fly  ?  On  he  came,  undeterred 
and  unpolluted  by  the  brackish  sea,  his  waters  as  fresh 
and  pure  as  when  they  had  first  run  laughing  through 
the  sunlit  meadows  of  Arcadia.  .  .  .  Arethusa  sought 
no  more  to  fly.  Love  had  conquered — Love,  the  lord  of 
gods  and  men,  who  mocks  at  maidens'  vows  and  melts  the 
coldest  breast.  So  there,  amid  the  alien  waters  of  the 
sea,  the  two  met  in  loving  embrace,  never  again  to  part. 
And  after  this  the  gods  brought  them  once  again  to  the 
light  of  the  sun.  For,  finding  at  length  a  way  of  escape 
through  a  fissure  of  the  rocks,  they  rushed  forth  as  that 
Arethusan  Fount  which  springs  up  in  the  Sicilian  island 
of  Ortygia. 

"And  now  from  their  fountains 

In  Enna's  mountains, 
Down  one  dale  where  the  morning  basks 

Like  friends  once  parted 

Grown  single-hearted, 
They  ply  their  watery  tasks. 

At  sunrise  they  leap 

From  their  cradles  steep 
In  the  cave  of  the  shelving  hill ; 

At  noontide  they  flow 

Through  the  woods  below 


Arethusa  23 

And  the  meadows  of  Asphodel ; 

And  at  night  they  sleep 

In  the  rocking  deep 
Beneath  the  Ortygian  shore;— 

Like  spirits  that  lie 

In  the  azure  sky 
When  they  love  but  live  no  more." 

SHELLEY 


THE  STORY  OF  DAPHNE 

BY   M.   M.   BIRD 

PHCEBUS  APOLLO,  the  Sun-god,  a  hunter  un 
matched  in  the  chase,  had  slain  the  awful  Python 
with  his  shafts.  To  commemorate  such  a  doughty  deed, 
he  instituted  the  Pythian  Games  wherein  noble  youths 
should  strive  for  mastery.  The  prize  was  a  simple  green 
wreath,  the  symbol  of  victory.  The  laurel  was  not  yet  the 
leaf  dedicated  to  the  wreaths  the  gods  bestowed  upon  the 
happy  victors,  but  every  kind  of  green  was  worn  with 
promiscuous  grace  upon  the  flowing  locks  of  Phoebus. 

Flushed  with  pride  in  his  new  success  against  the 
Python,  Phoebus  saw  Cupid,  Venus'  immortal  son,  bend 
ing  his  bow  and  aiming  his  feathered  shafts  at  unwary 
mortals.  A  heart  once  pricked  by  one  of  those  tiny  darts 
felt  all  the  bitter-sweet  of  love,  and  never  recovered  from 
the  wound.  Him  Phcebus  taunted.  "  Are  such  as  these 
fit  weapons  for  chits  ? "  he  cried.  "  Know  that  such 
archery  is  my  proper  business.  My  shafts  fly  resistless. 
See  how  the  Python  has  met  his  just  doom  at  my  hands. 
Take  up  thy  torch,  and,  with  that  only,  singe  the  feeble 
souls  of  lovers." 

Cupid  returned  him  answer  that  though  on  all  beside 
Apollo's  shafts  might  be  resistless,  to  Cupid  would  justly 
be  the  fame  when  he  himself  was  conquered.  The  mis 
chievous  boy  flew  away  to  the  heights  of  Parnassus,  and 
thence  winged  one  of  his  sharpest  arrows  against  the 
breast  of  the  bold  deity.  Another  and  different  shaft  he 

24 


The  Story  of  Daphne  25 

took,  blunt  and  tipped  with  lead,  and  this  he  aimed  at  the 
heart  of  a  certain  nymph  of  surpassing  fairness,  a  shaft 
designed  to  provoke  disdain  of  love  in  her  chaste  bosom. 
Her  name  was  Daphne,  the  young  daughter  of  Peneus. 
She  was  a  follower  of  Diana,  the  divine  huntress.  All 
her  days  she  spent  in  the  woods  among  the  wild  creatures, 
or  scoured  the  open  plains  with  swift  feet.  All  her  love 
was  given  to  the  free  life  of  the  forest:  she  roamed  in 
fearless  pursuit  of  beasts  of  prey,  her  quiver  at  her  side, 
her  bow  in  hand,  her  lovely  hair  bound  in  many  a  fillet 
about  her  head.  Her  father  often  blamed  her.  "  Thou 
owest  it,"  he  said,  "  to  thyself  and  me  to  take  a  husband." 

But  she,  casting  her  young  arms  about  his  neck,  begged 
him  to  leave  her  free  to  pursue  the  life  she  loved,  and 
not  set  the  yoke  of  marriage  on  her  unwilling  shoulders. 
"  No  more  I  beg  of  thee,"  she  said,  "  than  Diana's  fond 
parent  granted  her." 

Her  soft-hearted  father  consented  to  respect  her  whim, 
but  warned  her  that  she  would  soon  rue  her  unnatural 
wish. 

As  Daphne  was  one  day  hunting  in  the  forest,  Apollo 
perceived  her.  The  arrow  winged  by  Cupid  had  not 
failed  of  its  effect,  and  the  poison  of  love  ran  like  fever 
through  his  veins.  He  saw  the  polished  argent  of  her 
bared  shoulder ;  he  saw  the  disheveled  hair  that  the  wind 
had  loosened  from  its  snood ;  he  saw  the  eyes,  limpid  and 
innocent  as  a  fawn's,  the  beauty  and  speed  of  her  feet  as 
she  fled  down  the  forest  glade,  her  taper  fingers  as  they 
fitted  an  arrow  to  the  bow-string.  He  saw  and  burned. 

Swift  as  the  wind  the  startled  damsel  had  fled  as  she 
espied  him,  nor  when  he  overtook  her  would  she  stay  to 
hearken  to  his  flattering  words. 

"  Stay,  nymph !  "  he  cried.    "  It  is  no  foe  who  follows 


26  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

you.  Why  should  you  flee  as  the  trembling  doe  from  the 
lion,  the  lamb  from  the  hungry  wolf,  the  dove  from  the 
pursuing  falcon  ?  It  is  a  god  who  loves  and  follows.  It  is 
a  god  you  flee  from,  a  god  who  loves,  and  will  not  be 
denied." 

Still  she  fled  and  still  he  followed;  he  the  loving,  she 
the  loath,  he  pleading  and  she  deaf  to  his  prayers.  As  a 
hare  doubles  to  elude  the  greyhound  that  is  gaining  on 
her,  the  flying  maid  turned  back  and  sought  thus  to 
elude  her  pursuer.  In  vain  she  strove  against  a  god. 
Terror  winged  her  feet,  but  there  is  no  escape  from  Love. 
He  gained  ground  upon  her,  and  now  she  felt  his  hot 
breath  on  her  hair;  his  arm  was  just  outstretched  to 
clasp  her. 

The  nymph  grew  pale  with  mortal  terror.  Spent  with 
her  long,  hard  race  for  freedom,  she  cast  a  despairing 
look  around  her.  No  help  was  to  be  seen,  but  near  by 
ran  the  waters  of  a  little  brook.  "  Oh,  help !  "  she  cried, 
"  if  water  gods  are  deities  indeed.  Earth,  I  adjure  you, 
gape  and  entomb  this  unhappy  wretch;  or  change  my 
form,  the  cause  of  all  my  fear !  " 

The  kind  earth  heard  her  frenzied  prayer.  The 
frightened  nymph  found  her  feet  benumbed  with  cold  and 
rooted  to  the  ground.  As  Apollo's  arms  were  flung  about 
her  a  filmy  rind  grew  over  her  body,  her  outflung  arms 
were  changed  to  leafy  boughs,  her  hair,  her  fingers,  all 
were  turned  to  shuddering  leaves;  only  the  smoothness 
of  her  skin  remained. 

"  Gods  and  men,  we  are  all  deluded  thus !  "  For  a 
maiden  he  clasped  a  laurel  tree,  and  his  hot  lips  were 
pressed  upon  the  cold  and  senseless  bark. 

Yet  Apollo  is  a  gracious  god,  and  presently,  when  his 
passion  had  cooled,  he  repented  him  of  his  mad  pursuit 


page  26] 


THE   STORY   OF   DAPHNE 


The  Story  of  Daphne  27 

and  its  desperate  ending.  The  idea  of  the  coy  maiden, 
roaming  the  forest  fancy-free,  crept  into  his  imagina 
tion,  more  delicate  and  lovely  than  when  she  lived  in  deed. 
So  he  vowed  that  the  laurel  should  be  his  peculiar  tree. 
Her  leaves  should  be  bound  for  poet's  brow,  should  crown 
the  victor  in  the  chariot  race,  and  the  conqueror  as  he 
marched  in  the  great  triumph. 

Secure  from  thunder  should  she  stand,  unfading  as 
the  immortal  gods;  and  as  the  locks  of  Apollo  are  un 
shorn,  her  boughs  should  be  decked  in  perpetual  green 
through  all  the  changing  seasons. 

And  the  grateful  tree  could  only  bend  her  fair  boughs 
above  him  and  wave  the  leafy  burden  of  her  head. 


DEUCALION  AND  PYRRHA 

BY  M.   M.  BIRD 

TO  the  golden  age  of  innocence,  when  the  world  was 
young  and  men  a  race  of  happy  children,  suc 
ceeded  an  age  of  silver,  and  then  an  age  of  brass.  Last 
came  an  age  of  iron,  when  every  man's  hand  was  against 
his  neighbor,  and  Justice  fled  affrighted  to  the  sky.  Then 
the  sons  of  earth,  the  giants,  no  longer  curbed  by  law 
or  fear  of  the  gods,  waxed  bold  and  wanton.  Piling 
mountain  upon  mountain  they  essayed  to  scale  the 
heavens  and  hurl  its  monarch  from  his  throne.  These 
Jupiter  blasted  with  his  red  lightnings  and  transfixed 
with  his  winged  bolts.  But  from  their  blood,  as  from 
seed  that  the  sower  scatters,  there  arose  a  race  of  men, 
a  feeble  folk,  but  no  less  godless  and  lawless  than  their 
sires.  Then  Jupiter,  beholding  the  ways  of  men  that 
they  were  evil  and  that  none  was  righteous  in  his  eyes, 
determined  to  destroy  this  world  and  people  it  with  a  new 
race  unlike  the  first.  He  was  minded  at  first  to  destroy 
it  by  fire,  and  made  ready  his  artillery  of  thunderbolts, 
but  then  he  bethought  him  that  the  vast  conflagration 
might  blaze  up  to  heaven  itself  and  scorch  the  gods  on 
their  golden  thrones.  So  he  dropped  the  bolts  from  his 
hand. 

"  Water,"  he  cried,  "  as  my  poet  has  sung  '  is  the  best 
of  all  elements ' ;  by  water  I  will  drown  the  world." 

First  he  bound  the  North  Wind  that  freezes  floods  by 
its  icy  breath,  then  loosed  the  South  Wind  that  brings 

28 


Deucalion  and  Pyrrha  29 

fog  and  darkness  and  horror  on  its  wings.  From  his 
beard  and  eyebrows  he  rained  showers,  from  his  robe 
and  mantle  the  unceasing  floods  streamed  down  and 
wreathing  mists  encircled  his  frowning  brow. 

He  swept  above  the  earth,  wringing  the  waters  from  the 
high  clouds,  while  peal  on  peal  of  thunder  rolled  about 
him. 

The  bearded  corn  bent  before  the  driving  rain,  and  the 
farmers  lamented  their  ruined  crops.  But  not  alone  in 
the  skies  was  Jupiter  content  to  open  the  watergates. 
He  summoned  to  his  aid  the  powers  of  Neptune.  The 
ocean,  the  natural  enemy  of  the  fruitful  earth,  swelled 
with  pride  at  this  request,  and  rushed  inland  to  meet  the 
swollen  torrents  that  gushed  from  the  hills  across  the 
sodden  plains.  The  floods  gathered  deep  over  the  low 
lands,  the  fields  were  drowned,  the  ruined  grain  was 
submerged.  Sheep  and  cattle,  peasants  and  their  plows, 
trees  and  wild  beasts,  were  all  borne  out  upon  the  resist 
less  waters.  Even  the  houses,  sapped  by  the  water,  fell 
into  the  angry  flood,  and  all  the  household  goods  were 
swallowed  up.  Some  climbed  high  cliffs  to  escape  the 
general  doom,  other  launched  out  in  little  boats  and 
floated  above  the  submerged  chimneys  of  their  homes  or 
cast  anchor  among  their  vines.  Hills  and  valleys  were 
alike  engulfed  by  the  heaving  waters;  those  who  had 
sought  safety  on  the  hilltops  died  of  starvation,  and  those 
in  boats  were  swamped. 

Jupiter,  looking  down  from  his  starry  heights,  saw 
nothing  but  a  lake  of  troubled  waters  where  the  blooming 
earth  had  been.  The  destruction  was  complete.  Then 
he  unloosed  the  North  Wind,  and  set  fierce  Boreas  to 
drive  away  the  clouds.  Neptune  he  commanded  to  lay 
his  trident  on  the  rough  waves  and  smooth  out  their  fur- 


3<D  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

rows.  And  he  bade  Triton,  who  appeared  above  the 
waves,  give  the  signal  for  the  waters  to  retire  within 
their  proper  bounds.  Triton  blew  a  blast  on  his  shell, 
and  the  note  was  borne  from  wave  to  wave,  from  marge 
to  marge.  The  waters,  obedient  to  the  summons,  ran 
off  the  shores.  The  streams  shrank  by  slow  degrees  to 
their  accustomed  level,  and  the  green  shoulders  of  the 
earth  rose  up  from  out  their  watery  shroud.  The  tops 
of  the  drooping  trees  emerged  all  matted  with  mud,  the 
houses  lay  in  heaps  of  reeking  ruin,  the  whole  world  lay 
desolate  and  wore  a  sickly  hue. 

I  have  said  that  all  men  were  evil,  yet  among  this  sinful 
race  were  two  righteous  found,  and  though  they  could  not 
save  others  from  destruction,  they  themselves  were  saved. 
In  a  far  vale  of  Thessaly  there  lived  an  aged  couple, 
who  had  fled  there  to  escape  from  the  wickedness  of  men, 
Deucalion  and  Pyrrha  his  wife.  When  the  flood  came 
they  had  seen  a  little  skiff  floating  by  their  cottage  door 
and  had  embarked  in  it.  For  many  days  the  skiff  had 
floated  like  a  cork  above  the  surging  flood,  and  when  the 
flood  abated  they  found  themselves  stranded  on  the 
heights  of  Parnassus. 

They  were  the  sole  survivors,  and  they  blessed  the 
gods  for  their  deliverance,  but  as  they  looked  upon  the 
scene  of  desolation  they  were  sad  at  heart.  It  was  a 
silent  world.  No  human  voice  to  greet  them,  no  sound 
of  beast  or  bird.  They  were  childless  and  without  hope 
of  children,  and  if  one  of  them  were  to  die,  how  could  the 
other  live  on? 

Yet  in  their  misery  they  forgot  not  to  pay  their 
reverent  vows  to  Jupiter,  the  God  of  Deliverance,  and 
then  together  made  their  way  down  from  Parnassus  and 
sought  the  now  ruined  shrine  of  Themis.  The  roofs 


Deucalion  and  Pyrrha  31 

were  green  with  moss  and  slime;  no  fire  burned  on  the 
deserted  altar. 

They  fell  prostrate  and  implored  the  goddess :  "  O 
righteous  Themis,  if  the  gods  can  be  moved  to  love  or 
pity  by  our  prayers;  if  the  miseries  of  men  can  touch 
them;  if  there  is  forgiveness  and  renewed  favor  to  be 
found  in  them,  tell  how  we  may  restore  mankind,  and 
by  a  miracle  repeople  all  the  world !  " 

The  gracious  goddess  bowed  to  them  and  said :  "  De 
part!  Veil  your  heads  and  cast  each  behind  you  the 
bones  of  your  mighty  mother." 

The  pair  stood  amazed  and  dumb  with  wonder. 

Pyrrha  could  not  bring  herself  to  obey  the  dire  and 
seemingly  impious  command. 

"  Forbid  it,  Heaven,"  she  cried,  "  that  I  should  tear 
those  sacred  relics  from  their  sepulcher !  " 

But  Deucalion  pondered  in  his  heart  the  word  of  the 
goddess,  ever  seeking  in  it  some  hidden  meaning  not  at 
first  made  clear.  At  length  his  eye  brightened ;  he  called 
Pyrrha  to  him  and  said :  "  If  I  understand  it  right,  there 
is  an  answer  to  the  dark  enigma  that  will  free  the  god 
dess's  word  from  taint  of  sacrilege.  Our  mighty  mother 
is  the  earth;  the  stones  are  her  bones.  These  we  must 
cast  behind  us." 

With  renewed  hope  and  gladness  Pyrrha  heard  his 
words,  and  though  doubting  still  resolved  to  try. 

Descending  from  the  mountain  to  the  plain  that  was 
strewn  with  stones,  reverently  they  veiled  their  heads, 
and,  taking  up  one  stone  after  another,  they  flung  them 
over  their  shoulders. 

And  as  the  stones  fell  to  the  ground  a  miracle  was 
wrought.  As  each  stone  fell  it  visibly  changed.  At  first 
but  the  imperfect  rudiments  of  a  form  appeared,  such  as 


32  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

is  seen  in  marble  where  the  chisel  has  begun  to  chip  it 
out,  and  the  sculptor  has  not  yet  lavished  on  it  his  fin 
ished  art.  Then  by  degrees  the  stones  seemed  to  swell 
and  soften  like  ripening  fruit,  till  at  last  the  life-blood 
ran  through  the  blue  veins,  while  the  bones  kept  their 
hardness  and  supported  the  new-formed  frame. 

By  divine  power  each  stone  thrown  by  Deucalion 
turned  into  a  man ;  while  each  that  Pyrrha  threw  bloomed 
into  a  fair  woman.  Thus  was  the  earth  repeopled. 

'Tis  a  marvelous  tale,  but  if  you  doubt  its  truth  go 
question  the  Egyptian  rustics.  They  will  tell  you  that 
when  the  Nile  subsides  they  find  in  the  slime  rude  stones 
shaped  like  a  man's  body,  with  a  knob  like  a  head  and 
bosses  like  the  beginnings  of  arms  and  legs.  These  are 
stones  that  Deucalion  and  Pyrrha  threw,  but  such  as  fell 
at  their  feet  instead  of  behind  them,  and  only  began  to 
turn  into  men  and  women. 


EPIMETHEUS  AND  PANDORA 

BY  NATHANIEL  HAWTHORNE 

I"  ONG,  long  ago,  when  this  old  world  was  in  its 
JLy  tender  infancy,  there  was  a  child,  named  Epime- 
theus,  who  never  had  either  father  or  mother;  and  that 
he  might  not  be  lonely,  another  child,  fatherless  and 
motherless  like  himself,  was  sent  from  a  far  country  to 
live  with  him,  and  be  his  playfellow  and  helpmate.  Her 
name  was  Pandora. 

The  first  thing  that  Pandora  saw,  when  she  entered  the 
cottage  where  Epimetheus  dwelt,  was  a  great  box.  And 
almost  the  first  question  which  she  put  to  him,  after 
crossing  the  threshold,  was  this :  "  Epimetheus,  what  have 
you  in  that  box  ?  " 

"  My  dear  little  Pandora,"  answered  Epimetheus,  "  that 
is  a  secret,  and  you  must  be  kind  enough  not  to  ask  any 
questions  about  it.  The  box  was  left  here  to  be  kept 
safely,  and  I  do  not  myself  know  what  it  contains." 

"  But  who  gave  it  to  you  ?  "  asked  Pandora.  "  And 
where  did  it  come  from  ?  " 

"  That  is  a  secret,  too,"  replied  Epimetheus. 

"  How  provoking ! "  exclaimed  Pandora,  pouting  her 
lip.  "  I  wish  the  great  ugly  box  were  out  of  the  way !  " 

"  Oh,  come,  don't  think  of  it  any  more ! "  cried  Epi 
metheus.  "  Let  us  run  out  of  doors,  and  have  some  nice 
play  with  the  other  children." 

It  is  thousands  of  years  since  Epimetheus  and  Pandora 
were  alive;  and  the  world,  nowadays,  is  a  very  different 

33 


34  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

sort  of  thing  from  what  it  was  in  their  time.  Then,  every 
body  was  a  child.  There  needed  no  fathers  and  mothers 
to  take  care  of  the  children,  because  there  was  no  danger 
or  trouble  of  any  kind,  and  no  clothes  to  be  mended,  and 
there  was  always  plenty  to  eat  and  drink.  Whenever  a 
child  wanted  his  dinner,  he  found  it  growing  on  a  tree; 
and  if  he  looked  at  the  tree  in  the  morning,  he  could  see 
the  expanding  blossom  of  that  night's  supper;  or,  at 
eventide,  he  saw  the  tender  bud  of  to-morrow's  breakfast. 
It  was  a  very  pleasant  life  indeed.  No  labor  to  be  done, 
no  tasks  to  be  studied;  nothing  but  sports  and  dances, 
and  sweet  voices  of  children  talking,  or  caroling  like 
birds,  or  gushing  out  in  merry  laughter  throughout  the 
livelong  day. 

It  is  probable  that  the  very  greatest  disquietude  which  a 
child  had  ever  experienced  was  Pandora's  vexation  at 
not  being  able  to  discover  the  secret  of  the  mysterious 
box. 

This  was  at  first  only  the  faint  shadow  of  a  Trouble; 
but  every  day  it  grew  more  and  more  substantial,  until 
before  a  great  while  the  cottage  of  Epimetheus  and 
Pandora  was  less  sunshiny  than  those  of  the  other 
children. 

"  Whence  can  the  box  have  come  ? "  Pandora  con 
tinually  kept  saying  to  herself  and  to  Epimetheus.  "  And 
what  on  earth  can  be  inside  of  it?" 

"  Always  talking  about  this  box !  "  said  Epimetheus  at 
last;  for  he  had  grown  extremely  tired  of  the  subject. 
"  I  wish,  dear  Pandora,  you  would  try  to  talk  of  some 
thing  else.  Come,  let  us  go  and  gather  some  ripe  figs, 
and  eat  them  under  the  trees  for  our  supper.  And  I 
know  a  vine  that  has  the  sweetest  and  juiciest  grapes  you 
ever  tasted." 


Epimetheus  and  Pandora  35 

"  Always  talking  about  grapes  and  figs ! "  cried  Pan 
dora  pettishly. 

"  Well,  then/'  said  Epimetheus,  who  was  a  good- 
tempered  child,  "  let  us  run  out  and  have  a  merry  time 
with  our  playmates." 

"  I  am  tired  of  merry  times,  and  don't  care  if  I  never 
have  any  more !  "  answered  our  pettish  little  Pandora. 
"  And  besides,  I  never  do  have  any.  This  ugly  box !  I 
am  so  taken  up  with  thinking  about  it  all  the  time.  I 
insist  upon  you  telling  me  what  is  inside  of  it." 

"  As  I  have  already  said,  fifty  times  over,  I  do  not 
know ! "  replied  Epimetheus,  getting  a  little  vexed. 
"  How,  then,  can  I  tell  you  what  is  inside  ?  " 

"  You  might  open  it,"  said  Pandora,  looking  sideways 
at  Epimetheus,  "  and  then  we  could  see  for  ourselves." 

"  Pandora,  what  are  you  thinking  of  ?  "  exclaimed  Epi 
metheus. 

And  his  face  expressed  so  much  horror  at  the  idea  of 
looking  into  a  box  which  had  been  confided  to  him  on 
the  condition  of  his  never  opening  it,  that  Pandora 
thought  it  best  not  to  suggest  it  any  more.  Still,  she 
could  not  help  thinking  and  talking  about  the  box. 

"  At  least,"  said  she,  "  you  can  tell  me  how  it  came 
here." 

"  It  was  left  at  the  door,"  replied  Epimetheus,  "  just 
before  you  came,  by  a  person  who  looked  very  smiling 
and  intelligent,  and  who  could  hardly  forbear  laughing  as 
he  put  it  down.  He  was  dressed  in  an  odd  kind  of  a 
cloak,  and  had  on  a  cap  that  seemed  to  be  made  partly 
of  feathers,  so  that  it  looked  almost  as  if  it  had  wings." 

"  What  sort  of  a  staff  had  he  ?  "  asked  Pandora. 

"  Oh,  the  most  curious  staff  you  ever  saw !  "  cried 
Epimetheus.  "  It  was  like  two  serpents  twisting  around 


36  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

a  stick,  and  was  carved  so  naturally  that  I,  at  first, 
thought  the  serpents  were  alive/' 

"  I  know  him,"  said  Pandora  thoughtfully.  "  Nobody 
else  has  such  a  staff.  It  was  Quicksilver ;  and  he  brought 
me  hither,  as  well  as  the  box.  No  doubt  he  intended  it 
for  me;  and  most  probably  it  contains  pretty  dresses  for 
me  to  wear,  or  toys  for  you  and  me  to  play  with,  or  some 
thing  very  nice  for  us  both  to  eat !  " 

"  Perhaps  so,"  answered  Epimetheus,  turning  away. 
"  But  until  Quicksilver  comes  back  and  tells  us  so,  we 
have  neither  of  us  any  right  to  lift  the  lid  of  the  box." 

"  What  a  dull  boy  it  is !  "  muttered  Pandora,  as  Epi 
metheus  left  the  cottage.  "  I  do  wish  he  had  a  little  more 
enterprise !  " 

For  the  first  time  since  her  arrival,  Epimetheus  had 
gone  out  without  asking  Pandora  to  accompany  him.  He 
was  tired  to  death  of  hearing  about  the  box,  and  heartily 
wished  that  Quicksilver,  or  whatever  was  the  messenger's 
name,  had  left  it  at  some  other  child's  door,  where  Pan 
dora  would  never  have  set  eyes  on  it.  So  perseveringly  as 
she  did  babble  about  this  one  thing!  The  box,  the  box, 
and  nothing  but  the  box !  It  seemed  as  if  the  box  were 
bewitched,  and  as  if  the  cottage  were  not  big  enough  to 
hold  it,  without  Pandora's  continually  stumbling  over  it 
and  making  Epimetheus  stumble  over  it  likewise,  and 
bruising  all  four  of  their  shins. 

Well,  it  was  really  hard  that  poor  Epimetheus  should 
have  a  box  in  his  ears  from  morning  to  night,  especially 
as  the  little  people  of  the  earth  were  so  unaccustomed  to 
vexations,  in  those  happy  days,  that  they  knew  not  how 
to  deal  with  them.  Thus  a  small  vexation  made  as  much 
disturbance  then  as  a  far  bigger  one  would  in  our  own 
times. 


Epimetheus  and  Pandora  37 

After  Epimetheus  was  gone  Pandora  stood  gazing  at 
the  box.  She  had  called  it  ugly  above  a  hundred  times ; 
but  in  spite  of  all  that  she  had  said  against  it,  it  was  in 
truth  a  very  handsome  article  of  furniture.  It  was  made 
of  a  beautiful  kind  of  wood,  with  dark  and  rich  veins 
spreading  over  its  surface,  which  was  so  highly  polished 
that  little  Pandora  could  see  her  face  in  it.  As  the  child 
had  no  other  looking-glass,  it  is  odd  that  she  did  not  value 
the  box,  merely  on  this  account. 

The  edges  and  corners  of  the  box  were  carved  with 
wonderful  skill.  Around  the  margin  there  were  figures 
of  graceful  men  and  women,  and  the  prettiest  children 
ever  seen,  reclining  or  sporting  amid  a  profusion  of 
flowers  and  foliage;  and  these  various  objects  were  so 
exquisitely  represented,  and  were  wrought  together  in 
such  harmony,  that  flowers,  foliage,  and  human  beings 
seemed  to  combine  into  a  wreath  of  mingled  beauty. 

But  here  and  there,  peeping  forth  from  behind  the 
carved  foliage,  Pandora  once  or  twice  fancied  that  she 
saw  a  face  not  so  lovely,  which  stole  the  beauty  out  of 
all  the  rest.  Nevertheless,  on  looking  more  closely,  she 
could  discover  nothing  of  the  kind.  Some  face,  that  was 
really  beautiful,  had  been  made  to  look  ugly  by  her 
catching  a  sideway  glimpse  at  it. 

The  most  beautiful  face  of  all  was  done  in  what  is 
called  high  relief,  in  the  center  of  the  lid.  There  was 
nothing  else  save  the  dark,  smooth  richness  of  the  pol 
ished  wood,  and  this  one  face  in  the  center,  with  a  gar 
land  of  flowers  about  its  brow.  Pandora  had  looked  at 
this  face  a  great  many  times,  and  imagined  that  the 
mouth  could  smile  if  it  liked,  or  be  grave  when  it  chose, 
the  same  as  any  living  mouth.  The  features,  indeed, 
all  wore  a  very  lively  and  rather  mischievous  expression, 


38  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

which  looked  almost  as  if  it  needs  must  burst  out  of  the 
carved  lips  and  utter  itself  in  words. 

Had  the  mouth  spoken,  it  would  probably  have  been 
something  like  this  :  "  Do  not  be  afraid,  Pandora !  What 
harm  can  there  be  in  opening  the  box  ?  Never  mind  that 
poor,  simple  Epimetheus!  You  are  wiser  than  he,  and 
have  ten  times  as  much  spirit.  Open  the  box,  and  see  if 
you  do  not  find  something  very  pretty !  " 

The  box  was  fastened ;  not  by  a  lock,  nor  by  any  other 
such  contrivance,  but  by  a  very  intricate  knot  of  gold  cord. 
There  appeared  to  be  no  end  to  this  knot,  and  no  be 
ginning.  Never  was  a  knot  so  cunningly  twisted,  nor 
with  so  many  ins  and  outs,  which  roguishly  defied  the 
skilfullest  fingers  to  disentangle  them.  And  yet,  by  the 
very  difficulty  that  there  was  in  it,  Pandora  was  the 
more  tempted  to  examine  the  knot,  and  just  see  how  it 
was  made.  Two  or  three  times  already  she  had  stooped 
over  the  box,  and  taken  the  knot  between  her  thumb  and 
forefinger,  but  without  positively  trying  to  undo  it. 

"  I  really  believe,"  said  she  to  herself,  "  that  I  begin 
to  see  how  it  was  done.  Nay,  perhaps  I  could  tie  it  up 
again  after  undoing  it.  There  could  be  no  harm  in  that, 
surely.  Even  Epimetheus  would  not  blame  me  for  that. 
I  need  not  open  the  box,  and  should  not,  of  course,  with 
out  the  foolish  boy's  consent,  even  if  the  knot  were 
untied/' 

First  she  tried  to  lift  it.  It  was  heavy ;  much  too  heavy 
for  the  slender  strength  of  a  child  like  Pandora.  She 
raised  one  end  of  the  box  a  few  inches  from  the  floor,  and 
let  it  fall  again  with  a  pretty  loud  thump.  A  moment 
afterwards  she  almost  fancied  that  she  heard  something 
stir  inside  of  the  box.  She  applied  her  ear  as  closely  as 
possible  and  listened.  Positively  there  did  seem  to  be  a 


Epimetheus  and  Pandora  39 

kind  of  stifled  murmur  within.  Or  was  it  merely  the 
singing  in  Pandora's  ears?  Or  could  it  be  the  beating 
of  her  heart?  The  child  could  not  quite  satisfy  herself 
whether  she  had  heard  anything  or  no.  But,  at  all  events, 
her  curiosity  was  stronger  than  ever. 

As  she  drew  back  her  head  her  eyes  fell  upon  the  knot 
of  gold  cord. 

"  It  must  have  been  a  very  ingenious  person  who  tied 
this  knot,"  said  Pandora  to  herself.  "But  I  think  I 
could  untie  it,  nevertheless.  I  am  resolved,  at  least,  to 
find  the  two  ends  of  the  cord." 

So  she  took  the  golden  knot  in  her  fingers,  and  pried 
into  its  intricacies  as  sharply  as  she  could.  Almost  with 
out  intending  it,  or  quite  knowing  what  she  was  about, 
she  was  soon  busily  engaged  in  attempting  to  undo  it. 
Meanwhile  the  bright  sunshine  came  through  the  open 
window,  as  did  likewise  the  merry  voices  of  the  children 
playing  at  a  distance;  and,  perhaps,  the  voice  of  Epime 
theus  among  them.  Pandora  stopped  to  listen.  What 
a  beautiful  day  it  was!  Would  it  not  be  wiser  if  she 
were  to  let  the  troublesome  knot  alone,  and  think  no  more 
about  the  box,  but  run  and  join  her  little  playfellows  and 
be  happy  ? 

All  this  time,  however,  her  fingers  were  half  uncon 
sciously  busy  with  the  knot;  and,  happening  to  glance 
at  the  flower-wreathed  face  on  the  lid  of  the  enchanted 
box,  she  seemed  to  perceive  it  slyly  grinning  at 
her. 

"  That  face  looks  very  mischievous,"  thought  Pandora. 
"  I  wonder  whether  it  smiles  because  I  am  doing  wrong ! 
I  have  the  greatest  mind  in  the  world  to  run  away ! " 

But  just  then,  by  the  merest  accident,  she  gave  the 
knot  a  kind  of  a  twist,  which  produced  a  wonderful  re- 


40  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

suit.  The  gold  cord  untwined  itself  as  if  by  magic,  and 
left  the  box  without  a  fastening. 

"  This  is  the  strangest  thing  I  ever  knew ! "  said  Pan 
dora.  "  What  will  Epimetheus  say  ?  And  how  can  I 
possibly  tie  it  up  again  ?  " 

She  made  one  or  two  attempts  to  restore  the  knot,  but 
soon  found  it  quite  beyond  her  skill.  It  had  disentangled 
itself  so  suddenly  that  she  could  not  in  the  least  remem 
ber  how  the  strings  had  been  doubled  into  one  another; 
and  when  she  tried  to  recollect  the  shape  and  appearance 
of  the  knot,  it  seemed  to  have  gone  entirely  out  of  her 
mind.  Nothing  was  to  be  done,  therefore,  but  to  let 
the  box  remain  as  it  was  until  Epimetheus  should  come  in. 

"  But,"  said  Pandora,  "  when  he  finds  the  knot  untied, 
he  will  know  that  I  have  done  it.  How  shall  I  make 
him  believe  that  I  have  not  looked  into  the  box  ?  " 

And  then  the  thought  came  into  her  naughty  little 
heart,  that,  since  she  would  be  suspected  of  having  looked 
into  the  box,  she  might  just  as  well  do  so  at  once.  Oh, 
very  naughty  and  very  foolish  Pandora!  You  should 
have  thought  only  of  doing  what  was  right,  and  of  leaving 
undone  what  was  wrong,  and  not  of  what  your  playfellow 
Epimetheus  would  have  said  or  believed.  And  so  perhaps 
she  might,  if  the  enchanted  face  on  the  lid  of  the  box 
had  not  looked  so  bewitchingly  persuasive  at  her,  and  if 
she  had  not  seemed  to  hear,  more  distinctly  than  before, 
the  murmur  of  small  voices  within.  She  could  not  tell 
whether  it  was  fancy  or  no;  but  there  was  quite  a  little 
tumult  of  whispers  in  her  ear — or  else  it  was  her  curiosity 
that  whispered : 

"  Let  us  out,  dear  Pandora ;  pray  let  us  out !  We  will 
be  such  nice  pretty  playfellows  for  you !  Only  let  us 
out!" 


Epimetheus  and  Pandora  41 

"  What  can  it  be?  "  thought  Pandora.  "  Is  there  some 
thing  alive  in  the  box?  Well! — yes! — I  am  resolved  to 
take  just  one  peep !  Only  one  peep ;  and  then  the  lid  shall 
be  shut  down  as  safely  as  ever !  There  cannot  possibly 
be  any  harm  in  just  one  little  peep ! ' 

But  it  is  now  time  for  us  to  see  what  Epimetheus  was 
doing. 

This  was  the  first  time  since  his  little  playmate  had 
come  to  dwell  with  him  that  he  had  attempted  to  enjoy 
any  pleasure  in  which  she  did  not  partake.  But  nothing 
went  right;  nor  was  he  nearly  so  happy  as  on  other 
days.  He  could  not  find  a  sweet  grape  or  a  ripe  fig  (if 
Epimetheus  had  a  fault,  it  was  a  little  too  much  fondness 
for  figs)  ;  or,  if  ripe  at  all,  they  were  over- ripe,  and  so 
sweet  as  to  be  cloying.  In  short,  he  grew  so  uneasy  and 
discontented,  that  the  other  children  could  not  imagine 
what  was  the  matter  with  Epimetheus.  Neither  did  he 
himself  know  what  ailed  him  any  better  than  they  did. 

At  length,  discovering  that,  somehow  or  other,  he  put 
a  stop  to  all  the  play,  Epimetheus  judged  it  best  to  go 
back  to  Pandora,  who  was  in  a  humor  better  suited  to 
his  own.  But,  with  a  hope  of  giving  her  pleasure,  he 
gathered  some  flowers,  and  made  them  into  a  wreath, 
which  he  meant  to  put  upon  her  head.  The  flowers 
were  very  lovely' — roses  and  lilies,  and  orange-blossoms, 
and  a  great  many  more,  which  left  a  trail  of  fragrance 
behind  as  Epimetheus  carried  them  along ;  and  the  wreath 
was  put  together  with  as  much  skill  as  could  reasonably 
be  expected  of  a  boy.  The  fingers  of  little  girls,  it  has 
always  appeared  to  me,  are  the  fittest  to  twine  flower- 
wreaths  ;  but  boys  could  do  it  in  those  days  rather  better 
than  they  can  now. 

Meanwhile  a  great  black  cloud  had  been  gathering  in 


42  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

the  sky  for  some  time  past,  although  it  had  not  yet 
overspread  the  sun.  But  just  as  Epimetheus  reached  the 
cottage  door,  this  cloud  began  to  intercept  the  sunshine, 
and  thus  to  make  a  sudden  and  sad  obscurity. 

He  entered  softly;  for  he  meant,  if  possible,  to  steal 
behind  Pandora  and  fling  the  wreath  of  flowers  over  her 
head  before  she  should  be  aware  of  his  approach.  But,  as 
it  happened,  there  was  no  need  of  his  treading  so  very 
lightly.  He  might  have  trod  as  heavily  as  he  pleased 
without  much  probability  of  Pandora's  hearing  his  foot 
steps.  She  was  too  intent  upon  her  purpose.  At  the 
moment  of  his  entering  the  cottage  the  naughty  child  had 
put  her  hand  to  the  lid,  and  was  on  the  point  of  opening 
the  mysterious  box.  Epimetheus  beheld  her.  If  he  had 
cried  out  Pandora  would  probably  have  withdrawn  her 
hand,  and  the  fatal  mystery  of  the  box  might  never  have 
been  known. 

But  Epimetheus  himself,  although  he  said  very  little 
about  it,  had  his  own  share  of  curiosity  to  know  what  was 
inside.  Perceiving  that  Pandora  was  resolved  to  find  out 
the  secret,  he  determined  that  his  playfellow  should  not 
be  the  only  wise  person  in  the  cottage.  And  if  there 
were  anything  pretty  or  valuable  in  the  box,  he  meant 
to  take  half  of  it  to  himself.  Thus,  after  all  his  sage 
speeches  to  Pandora  about  restraining  her  curiosity,  Epi 
metheus  turned  out  to  be  quite  as  foolish,  and  nearly  as 
much  in  fault,  as  she.  So,  whenever  we  blame  Pandora 
for  what  happened,  we  must  not  forget  to  shake  our  heads 
at  Epimetheus  likewise. 

As  Pandora  raised  the  lid  the  cottage  grew  very  dark 
and  dismal,  for  the  black  cloud  had  now  swept  quite  over 
the  sun,  and  seemed  to  have  buried  it  alive.  There  had, 
for  a  little  while  past,  been  a  low  growling  and  muttering, 


Epimetheus  and  Pandora  43 

which  all  at  once  broke  into  a  heavy  peal  of  thunder. 
But  Pandora,  heeding  nothing  of  all  this,  lifted  the  lid 
nearly  upright  and  looked  inside.  It  seemed  as  if  a 
sudden  swarm  of  winged  creatures  brushed  past  her, 
taking  flight  out  of  the  box,  while,  at  the  same  instant, 
she  heard  the  voice  of  Epimetheus,  with  a  lamentable 
tone,  as  if  he  were  in  pain. 

"  Oh,  I  am  stung !  "  cried  he.  "  I  am  stung !  Naughty 
Pandora !  why  have  you  opened  this  wicked  box  ?  " 

Pandora  let  fall  the  lid,  and,  starting  up,  looked  about 
her,  to  see  what  had  befallen  Epimetheus.  The  thunder 
cloud  had  so  darkened  the  room  that  she  could  not  very 
clearly  discern  what  was  in  it.  But  she  heard  a  disagree 
able  buzzing,  as  if  a  great  many  huge  flies,  or  gigantic 
mosquitoes,  were  darting  about.  And,  as  her  eyes  grew 
more  accustomed  to  the  imperfect  light,  she  saw  a  crowd 
of  ugly  little  shapes,  with  bats'  wings,  looking  abomi 
nably  spiteful,  and  armed  with  terribly  long  stings  in 
their  tails.  It  was  one  of  these  that  had  stung  Epime 
theus.  Nor  was  it  a  great  while  before  Pandora  herself 
began  to  scream,  in  no  less  pain  and  affright  than  her 
playfellow,  and  making  a  vast  deal  more  hubbub  about 
it.  An  odious  little  monster  had  settled  on  her  forehead, 
and  would  have  stung  her  I  know  not  how  deeply  if 
Epimetheus  had  not  run  and  brushed  it  away. 

Now,  if  you  wish  to  know  what  these  ugly  things 
might  be  which  had  made  their  escape  out  of  the  box, 
I  must  tell  you  that  they  were  the  whole  family  of 
earthly  Troubles.  There  were  evil  Passions;  there  were 
a  great  many  species  of  Cares;  there  were  more  than  a 
hundred  and  fifty  Sorrows;  there  were  Diseases,  in  a 
vast  number  of  miserable  and  painful  shapes ;  there  were 
more  kinds  of  Naughtiness  than  it  would  be  of  any  use 


44  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

to  talk  about.  In  short,  everything  that  has  since  afflicted 
the  souls  and  bodies  of  mankind  had  been  shut  up  in 
the  mysterious  box,  and  given  to  Epimetheus  and  Pan 
dora  to  be  kept  safely,  in  order  that  the  happy  children 
of  the  world  might  never  be  molested  by  them.  Had 
they  been  faithful  to  their  trust,  all  would  have  gone 
well.  No  grown  person  would  ever  have  been  sad,  nor 
any  child  have  had  cause  to  shed  a  single  tear,  from 
that  hour  until  this  moment. 

But — and  you  may  see  by  this  how  a  wrong  act  of  any 
one  mortal  is  a  calamity  to  the  whole  world — by  Pan 
dora's  lifting  the  lid  of  that  miserable  box,  and  by  the 
fault  of  Epimetheus,  too,  in  not  preventing  her,  these 
Troubles  have  obtained  a  foothold  among  us,  and  do 
not  seem  very  likely  to  be  driven  away  in  a  hurry.  For 
it  was  impossible,  as  you  will  easily  guess,  that  the 
two  children  should  keep  the  ugly  swarm  in  their  own 
little  cottage.  On  the  contrary,  the  first  thing  they  did 
was  to  fling  open  the  doors  and  windows  in  hope  of  get 
ting  rid  of  them ;  and,  sure  enough,  away  flew  the  winged 
Troubles  all  abroad,  and  so  pestered  and  tormented  the 
small  people  everywhere  about  that  none  of  them  so 
much  as  smiled  for  many  days  afterwards.  And,  what 
was  very  singular,  all  the  flowers  and  dewy  blossoms  on 
earth,  not  one  of  which  had  hitherto  faded,  now  began 
to  droop  and  shed  their  leaves,  after  a  day  or  two.  The 
children,  moreover,  who  before  seemed  immortal  in  their 
childhood,  now  grew  older,  day  by  day,  and  came  soon  to 
be  youths  and  maidens,  and  men  and  women  by  and 
by,  and  aged  people,  before  they  dreamed  of  such  a 
thing. 

Meanwhile,  the  naughty  Pandora,  and  hardly  less 
naughty  Epimetheus,  remained  in  their  cottage.  Both 


Epimetheus  and  Pandora  45 

of  them  had  been  grievously  stung,  and  were  in  a  good 
deal  of  pain,  which  seemed  the  more  intolerable  to  them, 
because  it  was  the  very  first  pain  that  had  ever  been  felt 
since  the  world  began.  Besides  all  this,  they  were  in  ex 
ceedingly  bad  humor,  both  with  themselves  and  with  one 
another.  In  order  to  indulge  it  to  the  utmost,  Epimetheus 
sat  down  sullenly  in  a  corner  with  his  back  towards 
Pandora ;  while  Pandora  flung  herself  upon  the  floor  and 
rested  her  head  on  the  fatal  and  abominable  box.  She 
was  crying  bitterly,  and  sobbing  as  if  her  heart  would 
break. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  gentle  tap  on  the  inside  of  the 
lid. 

"  What  can  that  be  ?  "  cried  Pandora,  lifting  her  head. 

But  either  Epimetheus  had  not  heard  the  tap,  or  was 
too  much  out  of  humor  to  notice  it.  At  any  rate,  he 
made  no  answer. 

"  You  are  very  unkind,"  said  Pandora,  sobbing  anew, 
"  not  to  speak  to  me !  " 

Again  the  tap!  It  sounded  like  the. tiny  knuckles  of  a 
fairy's  hand,  knocking  lightly  and  playfully  on  the  inside 
of  the  box. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  asked  Pandora,  with  a  little  of  her 
former  curiosity.  "  Who  are  you,  inside  of  this  naughty 
box?" 

A  sweet  little  voice  spoke  from  within :  "  Only  lift  the 
lid,  and  you  shall  see." 

"  No,  no,"  answered  Pandora,  again  beginning  to  sob, 
"  I  have  had  enough  of  lifting  the  lid !  You  are  inside 
of  the  box,  naughty  creature,  and  there  you  shall  stay! 
There  are  plenty  of  your  ugly  brothers  and  sisters  al 
ready  flying  about  the  world.  You  need  never  think 
that  I  shall  be  so  foolish  as  to  let  you  out !  " 


46  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

She  looked  towards  Epimetheus  as  she  spoke,  perhaps 
expecting  that  he  would  commend  her  for  her  wisdom. 
But  the  sullen  boy  only  muttered  that  she  was  wise  a 
little  too  late. 

"  Ah,"  said  the  sweet  little  voice  again,  "  you  had  much 
better  let  me  out.  I  am  not  like  those  naughty  creatures 
that  have  stings  in  their  tails.  They  are  no  brothers  and 
sisters  of  mine,  as  you  would  see  at  once,  if  you  were 
only  to  get  a  glimpse  of  me.  Come,  come,  my  pretty 
Pandora !  I  am  sure  you  will  let  me  out !  " 

And,  indeed,  there  was  a  kind  of  cheerful  witchery  in 
the  tone,  that  made  it  almost  impossible  to  refuse  any 
thing  which  this  little  voice  asked.  Pandora's  heart  had 
insensibly  grown  lighter  at  every  word  that  came  from 
within  the  box.  Epimetheus,  too,  though  still  in  the 
corner,  had  turned  half  round,  and  seemed  to  be  in  rather 
better  spirits  than  before. 

"  My  dear  Epimetheus,"  cried  Pandora,  "  have  you 
heard  this  little  voice  ?  " 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure  I  have,"  answered  he,  but  in  no  very 
good  humor  as  yet.  "  And  what  of  it  ?  " 

"  Shall  I  lift  the  lid  again?  "  asked  Pandora. 

"  Just  as  you  please,"  said  Epimetheus.  "  You  have 
done  so  much  mischief  already,  that  perhaps  you  may  as 
well  do  a  little  more.  One  other  Trouble,  in  such  a 
swarm  as  you  have  set  adrift  about  the  world,  can  make 
no  very  great  difference." 

"  You  might  speak  a  little  more  kindly ! "  murmured 
Pandora,  wiping  her  eyes. 

"  Ah,  naughty  boy !  "  cried  the  little  voice  within  the 
box,  in  an  arch  and  laughing  tone.  "  He  knows  he  is 
longing  to  see  me.  Come,  my  dear  Pandora,  lift  up  the 
lid.  I  am  in  a  great  hurry  to  comfort  you.  Only  let 


Epimetheus  and  Pandora  47 

me  have  some  fresh  air,  and  you  shall  soon  see  that  mat 
ters  are  not  quite  so  dismal  as  you  think  them ! " 

"  Epimetheus,"  exclaimed  Pandora,  "  come  what  may, 
I  am  resolved  to  open  the  box !  " 

"And,  as  the  lid  seems  very  heavy,"  cried  Epime 
theus,  running  across  the  room,  "  I  will  help  you !  " 

So,  with  one  consent,  the  two  children  again  lifted  the 
lid.  Out  flew  a  sunny  and  smiling  little  personage,  and 
hovered  about  the  room,  throwing  a  light  wherever  she 
went.  Have  you  never  made  the  sunshine  dance  into 
dark  corners  by  reflecting  it  from  a  bit  of  looking-glass  ? 
Well,  so  looked  the  winged  cheerfulness  of  this  fairy- 
like  stranger  amid  the  gloom  of  the  cottage.  She  flew 
to  Epimetheus,  and  laid  the  least  touch  of  her  finger 
on  the  inflamed  spot  where  the  Trouble  had  stung  him, 
and  immediately  the  anguish  of  it  was  gone.  Then  she 
kissed  Pandora  on  the  forehead,  and  her  hurt  was  cured 
likewise. 

After  performing  these  good  offices,  the  bright  stranger 
fluttered  sportively  over  the  children's  heads,  and  looked 
so  sweetly  at  them  that  they  both  began  to  think  it  not 
so  very  much  amiss  to  have  opened  the  box,  since, 
otherwise,  their  cheery  guest  must  have  been  kept 
a  prisoner  among  those  naughty  imps  with  stings  in 
their  tails. 

"Pray,  who  are  you,  beautiful  creature?"  inquired 
Pandora. 

"  I  am  to  be  called  Hope !  "  answered  the  sunshiny 
figure.  "  And  because  I  am  such  a  cheery  little  body,  I 
was  packed  into  the  box  to  make  amends  to  the  human 
race  for  that  swarm  of  ugly  Troubles,  which  was  destined 
to  be  let  loose  among  them.  Never  fear!  we  shall  do 
pretty  well  in  spite  of  them  all." 


48  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 


"  Your  wings  are  colored  like  the  rainbow !  "  exclaimed 
Pandora.  "  How  very  beautiful !  " 

"Yes,  they  are  like  the  rainbow,"  said  Hope,  "be 
cause,  glad  as  my  nature  is,  I  am  partly  made  of  tears  as 
well  as  smiles." 

"  And  you  will  stay  with  us,"  asked  Epimetheus,  "  for 
ever  and  ever  ?  " 

"  As  long  as  you  need  me,"  said  Hope,  with  her  pleas 
ant  smile,  "  and  that  will  be  as  long  as  you  live  in  the 
world — I  promise  never  to  desert  you.  There  may  be 
times  and  seasons,  now  and  then,  when  you  will  think  that 
I  have  utterly  vanished.  But  again,  and  again,  and  again, 
when  perhaps  you  least  dream  of  it,  you  shall  see  the 
glimmer  of  my  wings  on  the  ceiling  of  your  cottage. 
Yes,  my  dear  children,  and  I  know  something  very  good 
and  beautiful  that  is. to  be  given  you,  hereafter!  " 

"Oh,  tell  us,"  they  exclaimed;  "tell  us  what  it  is!" 

"  Do  not  ask  me,"  replied  Hope,  putting  her  finger  on 
her  rosy  mouth.  "  But  do  not  despair,  even  if  it  should 
never  happen  while  you  live  on  this  earth.  Trust  in  my 
promise,  for  it  is  true." 

"  We  do  trust  you ! "  cried  Epimetheus  and  Pandora, 
both  in  one  breath. 

And  so  they  did ;  and  not  only  they,  but  so  has  every 
body  trusted  Hope,  that  has  since  been  alive.  And,  to 
tell  you  the  truth,  I  cannot  help  being  glad  (though,  to 
be  sure,  it  was  an  uncommonly  naughty  thing  for  her  to 
do) — but  i  cannot  help  being  glad  that  our  foolish  Pan 
dora  peeped  into  the  box.  No  doubt — no  doubt — the 
Troubles  are  still  flying  about  the  world,  and  have  in 
creased  in  multitude,  rather  than  lessened,  and  are  a  very 
ugly  set  of  imps,  and  carry  most  venomous  stings  in 
their  tails.  I  have  felt  them  already,  and  expect  to  feel 


Epimetheus  and  Pandora  49 

them  more  as  I  grow  older.  But  then  that  lovely  and 
lightsome  figure  of  Hope!  What  in  the  world  could 
we  do  without  her  ?  Hope  spiritualizes  the  earth ;  Hope 
makes  it  always  new;  and,  even  in  the  earth's  best  and 
brightest  aspect,  Hope  shows  it  to  be  only  the  shadow  of 
an  infinite  bliss  hereafter. 


EUROPA  AND  THE  GOD-BULL 

BY  NATHANIEL  HAWTHORNE 

CADMUS,  Phoenix,  and  Cilix,  the  three  sons  of  King 
Agenor,  and  their  little  sister  Europa  (who  was  a 
very  beautiful  child),  were  at  play  together  near  the 
sea-shore  in  their  father's  kingdom  of  Phoenicia.  They 
had  rambled  to  some  distance  from  the  palace  where  their 
parents  dwelt,  and  were  now  in  a  verdant  meadow,  on 
one  side  of  which  lay  the  sea,  all  sparkling  and  dimpling 
in  the  sunshine,  and  murmuring  gently  against  the  beach. 
The  three  boys  were  very  happy  gathering  flowers  and 
twining  them  into  garlands,  with  which  they  adorned  the 
little  Europa.  Seated  on  the  grass,  the  child  was  almost 
hidden  under  an  abundance  of  buds  and  blossoms,  whence 
her  rosy  face  peeped  merrily  out,  and,  as  Cadmus  said, 
was  the  prettiest  of  all  the  flowers. 

Just  then  there  came  a  splendid  butterfly  fluttering 
along  the  meadow,  and  Cadmus,  Phoenix,  and  Cilix  set  off 
in  pursuit  of  it,  crying  out  that  it  was  a  flower  with 
wings.  Europa,  who  was  a  little  wearied  with  playing 
all  day  long,  did  not  chase  the  butterfly  with  her  brothers, 
but  sat  still  where  they  had  left  her,  and  closed  her  eyes. 
For  a  while  she  listened  to  the  pleasant  murmur  of  the 
sea,  which  was  like  a  voice  saying  "  Hush !  "  and  bidding 
her  go  to  sleep.  But  the  pretty  child,  if  she  slept  at  all, 
could  not  have  slept  more  than  a  moment,  when  she  heard 
something  trample  on  the  grass  not  far  from  her,  and 

50 


Europa  and  the  God-Bull  51 

peeping  out  from  the  heap  of  flowers,  beheld  a  snow- 
white  bull. 

And  whence  could  this  bull  have  come?  Europa  and 
her  brothers  had  been  a  long  time  playing  in  the  meadow, 
and  had  seen  no  cattle,  nor  other  living  thing,  either  there 
or  on  the  neighboring  hills. 

"  Brother  Cadmus !  "  cried  Europa,  starting  up  out  of 
the  midst  of  the  roses  and  lilies.  "  Phoenix !  Cilix ! 
Where  are  you  all  ?  Help !  Help !  Come  and  drive  away 
this  bull!" 

But  her  brothers  were  too  far  off  to  hear,  especially  as 
the  fright  took  away  Europa's  voice  and  hindered  her 
from  calling  very  loudly.  So  there  she  stood,  with  her 
pretty  mouth  wide  open,  as  pale  as  the  white  lilies  that 
were  twisted  among  the  other  flowers  in  her  garlands. 

Nevertheless,  it  was  the  suddenness  with  which  she 
had  perceived  the  bull,  rather  than  anything  frightful  in 
its  appearance,  that  caused  Europa  so  much  alarm.  On 
looking  at  him  more  attentively,  she  began  to  see  that  he 
was  a  beautiful  animal,  and  even  fancied  a  particularly 
amiable  expression  in  his  face.  As  for  his  breath — the 
breath  of  cattle,  you  know,  is  always  sweet — it  was  as 
fragrant  as  if  he  had  been  grazing  on  no  other  food  than 
rosebuds,  or,  at  least,  the  most  delicate  of  clover  blos 
soms.  Never  before  did  a  bull  have  such  bright  and 
tender  eyes,  and  such  smooth  horns  of  ivory,  as  this 
one.  And  the  bull  ran  little  races,  and  capered  sportively 
around  the  child;  so  that  she  quite  forgot  how  big  and 
strong  he  was,  and,  from  the  gentleness  and  playfulness 
of  his  actions,  soon  came  to  consider  him  as  innocent  a 
creature  as  a  pet  lamb. 

Thus,  frightened  as  she  at  first  was,  you  might  by  and 
by  have  seen  Europa  stroking  the  bull's  forehead  with 


52  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

her  small  white  hand,  and  taking  the  garlands  off  her 
own  head  to  hang  them  on  his  neck  and  ivory  horns. 
Then  she  pulled  up  some  blades  of  grass,  and  he  ate  them 
out  of  her  hand,  not  as  if  he  were  hungry,  but  because  he 
wanted  to  be  friends  with  the  child,  and  took  pleasure  in 
eating  what  she  had  touched.  Well,  my  stars !  was  there 
ever  such  a  gentle,  sweet,  pretty,  and  amiable  creature  as 
this  bull,  and  ever  such  a  nice  playmate  for  a  little  girl? 

When  the  animal  saw  (for  the  bull  had  so  much  in 
telligence  that  it  is  really  wonderful  to  think  of),  when  he 
saw  that  Europa  was  no  longer  afraid  of  him,  he  grew 
overjoyed,  and  could  hardly  contain  himself  for  delight. 
He  frisked  about  the  meadow,  now  here,  now  there,  mak 
ing  sprightly  leaps,  with  as  little  effort  as  a  bird  expends 
in  hopping  from  twig  to  twig.  Indeed,  his  motion  was 
as  light  as  if  he  were  flying  through  the  air,  and  his  hoofs 
seemed  hardly  to  leave  their  print  in  the  grassy  soil  over 
which  he  trod.  With  his  spotless  hue,  he  resembled  a 
snow-drift  wafted  along  by  the  wind.  Once  he  galloped 
so  far  away  that  Europa  feared  lest  she  might  never  see 
him  again;  so,  setting  up  her  childish  voice,  she  called 
him  back. 

"  Come  back,  pretty  creature !  "  she  cried.  "  Here  is  a 
nice  clover  blossom." 

And  then  it  was  delightful  to  witness  the  gratitude  of 
this  amiable  bull,  and  how  he  was  so  full  of  joy  and 
thankfulness  that  he  capered  higher  than  ever.  He  came 
running  and  bowed  his  head  before  Europa,  as  if  he 
knew  her  to  be  a  king's  daughter,  or  else  recognized  the 
important  truth  that  a  little  girl  is  everybody's  queen. 
And  not  only  did  the  bull  bend  his  neck,  he  absolutely 
knelt  down  at  her  feet,  and  made  such  intelligent  nods, 
and  other  inviting  gestures,  that  Europa  understood 


Europa  and  the  God-Bull  53 

what  he  meant  just  as  well  as  if  he  had  put  it  in  so 
many  words. 

"  Come,  dear  child,"  was  what  he  wanted  to  say,  "  let 
me  give  you  a  ride  on  my  back." 

At  the  first  thought  of  such  a  thing  Europa  drew  back. 
But  then  she  considered  in  her  wise  little  head  that  there 
could  be  no  possible  harm  in  taking  just  one  gallop  on 
the  back  of  this  docile  and  friendly  animal,  who  would 
certainly  set  her  down  the  very  instant  she  desired  it. 
And  how  it  would  surprise  her  brothers  to  see  her  rid 
ing  across  the  green  meadow!  And  what  merry  times 
they  might  have,  either  taking  turns  for  a  gallop,  or 
clambering  on  the  gentle  creature,  all  four  children  to 
gether,  and  careering  round  the  field  with  shouts  of 
laughter  that  would  be  heard  as  far  off  as  King  Agenor's 
palace ! 

"  I  think  I  will  do  it,"  said  the  child  to  herself. 

And,  indeed,  why  not  ?  She  cast  a  glance  around,  and 
caught  a  glimpse  of  Cadmus,  Phoenix,  and  Cilix,  who 
were  still  in  pursuit  of  the  butterfly,  almost  at  the  other 
end  of  the  meadow.  It  would  be  the  quickest  way  of 
rejoining  them,  to  get  upon  the  white  bull's  back.  She 
came  a  step  nearer  to  him,  therefore ;  and — sociable  crea 
ture  that  he  was — he  showed  so  much  joy  at  this  mark  of 
her  confidence,  that  the  child  could  not  find  it  in  her 
heart  to  hesitate  any  longer.  Making  one  bound  (for 
this  little  princess  was  as  active  as  a  squirrel),  there  sat 
Europa  on  the  beautiful  bull,  holding  an  ivory  horn  in 
each  hand  lest  she  should  fall  off. 

"  Softly,  pretty  bull,  softly !  "  she  said,  rather  frightened 
at  what  she  had  done.  "  Do  not  gallop  too  fast." 

Having  got  the  child  on  his  back,  the  animal  gave  a 
leap  into  the  air,  and  came  down  so  like  a  feather  that 


54  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

Europa  did  not  know  when  his  hoofs  touched  the  ground. 
He  then  began  to  race  to  that  part  of  the  flowery  plain 
where  her  three  brothers  were,  and  where  they  had 
just  caught  their  splendid  butterfly.  Europa  screamed 
with  delight ;  and  Phoenix,  Cilix,  and  Cadmus  stood  gaping 
at  the  spectacle  of  their  sister  mounted  on  a  white  bull, 
not  knowing  whether  to  be  frightened,  or  to  wish  the 
same  good  luck  for  themselves.  The  gentle  and  inno 
cent  creature  (for  who  could  possibly  doubt  that  he  was 
so?)  pranced  round  among  the  children  as  sportively  as 
a  kitten.  Europa  all  the  while  looked  down  upon  her 
brothers,  nodding  and  laughing,  but  yet  with  a  sort 
of  stateliness  in  her  rosy  little  face.  As  the  bull  wheeled 
about  to  take  another  gallop  across  the  meadow,  the 
child  waved  her  hand  and  said  "  Good-by,"  playfully 
pretending  that  she  was  now  bound  on  a  distant  journey, 
and  might  not  see  her  brothers  again  for  nobody  could 
tell  how  long. 

"  Good-by,"  shouted  Cadmus,  Phoenix,  and  Cilix,  all 
in  one  breath. 

But,  together  with  her  enjoyment  of  the  sport,  there 
was  still  a  little  remnant  of  fear  in  the  child's  heart;  so 
that  her  last  look  at  the  three  boys  was  a  troubled  one, 
and  made  them  feel  as  if  their  dear  sister  were  really 
leaving  them  forever.  And  what  do  you  think  the  snowy 
bull  did  next?  Why,  he  set  off,  as  swift  as  the  wind, 
straight  down  to  the  sea-shore,  scampered  across  the  sand, 
took  an  airy  leap,  and  plunged  right  in  among  the  foam 
ing  billows.  The  white  spray  rose  in  a  shower  over  him 
and  little  Europa,  and  fell  spattering  down  upon  the 
water. 

Then  what  a  scream  of  terror  did  the  poor  child  send 
forth!  The  three  brothers  screamed  manfully,  likewise, 


Europa  and  the  God-Bull  55 

and  ran  to  the  shore  as  fast  as  their  legs  would  carry 
them,  with  Cadmus  at  their  head.  But  it  was  too  late. 
When  they  reached  the  margin  of  the  sand,  the  treacher 
ous  animal  was  already  away  in  the  wide  blue  sea,  with 
only  his  snowy  head  and  tail  emerging,  and  poor  little 
Europa  between  them,  stretching  out  one  hand  towards 
her  dear  brothers,  while  she  grasped  the  bull's  ivory  horn 
with  the  other.  And  there  stood  Cadmus,  Phoenix,  and 
Cilix,  gazing  at  this  sad  spectacle  through  their  tears, 
until  they  could  no  longer  distinguish  the  bull's  snowy 
head  from  the  white-capped  billows  that  seemed  to 
boil  up  out  of  the  sea's  depth  around  him.  Nothing  more 
was  ever  seen  of  the  white  bull — nothing  more  of  the 
beautiful  child. 

This  was  a  mournful  story,  as  you  may  well  think,  for 
the  three  boys  to  carry  home  to  their  parents.  King 
Agenor,  their  father,  was  the  ruler  of  the  whole  country ; 
but  he  loved  his  little  daughter  Europa  better  than  his 
kingdom,  or  than  all  his  other  children,  or  than  anything 
else  in  the  world.  Therefore,  when  Cadmus  and  his  two 
brothers  came  crying  home,  and  told  him  how  that  a  white 
bull  had  carried  off  their  sister,  and  swam  with  her  over 
the  sea,  the  king  was  quite  beside  himself  with  grief  and 
rage.  Although  it  was  now  twilight,  and  fast  growing 
dark,  he  bade  them  set  out  instantly  in  search  of  her. 

"  Never  shall  you  see  my  face  again,"  he  cried,  "  unless 
you  bring  me  back  my  little  Europa  to  gladden  me  with 
her  smiles  and  her  pretty  ways.  Begone,  and  enter  my 
presence  no  more,  till  you  come  leading  her  by  the  hand." 

As  King  Agenor  said  this  his  eyes  flashed  fire  (for  he 
was  a  very  passionate  king),  and  he  looked  so  terribly 
angry  that  the  poor  boys  did  not -even  venture  to  ask  for 
their  suppers,  but  slunk  away  out  of  the  palace,  and  only 


56  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

paused  on  the  steps  a  moment  to  consult  whither  they 
should  go  first.  While  they  were  standing  there,  all  in 
dismay,  their  mother,  Queen  Telephassa  (who  happened 
not  to  be  by  when  they  told  the  story  to  the  king),  came 
hurrying  after  them,  and  said  that  she  too  would  go  in 
quest  of  her  daughter. 

"Oh,  no,  mother!"  cried  the  boys.  "The  night  is 
dark,  and  there  is  no  knowing  what  troubles  and  perils 
we  may  meet  with." 

"  Alas !  my  dear  children,"  answered  poor  Queen  Tele 
phassa,  weeping  bitterly,  "  that  is  only  another  reason 
why  I  should  go  with  you.  If  I  should  lose  you  too,  as 
well  as  my  little  Europa,  what  would  become  of  me  ?  " 

In  this  manner  they  went  down  the  palace  steps,  and 
began  a  journey  which  turned  out  to  be  a  great  deal 
longer  than  they  dreamed  of.  The  last  that  they  saw  of 
King  Agenor,  he  came  to  the  door,  with  a  servant  hold 
ing  a  torch  beside  him,  and  called  after  them  into  the 
gathering  darkness : 

"  Remember !  Never  ascend  these  steps  again  with 
out  the  child !  " 

"•Never!"  sobbed  Queen  Telephassa;  and  the  three 
brothers  answered,  "  Never !  Never !  Never !  Never !  " 

And  they  kept  their  word.  Year  after  year  King 
Agnor  sat  in  the  solitude  of  his  beautiful  palace,  listen 
ing  in  vain  for  their  returning  footsteps,  hoping  to  hear 
the  familiar  voice  of  the  queen  and  the  cheerful  talk  of 
his  sons  entering  the  door  together,  and  the  sweet,  child 
ish  accents  of  little  Europa  in  the  midst  of  them.  But  so 
long  a  time  went  by  that,  at  last,  if  they  had  really  come, 
the  king  would  not  have  known  that  this  was  the  voice 
of  Telephassa,  and  these  the  younger  voices  that  used  to 
make  such  joyful  echoes  when  the  children  were  playing 


Europa  and  the  God-Bull  57 

about  the  palace.  We  must  now  leave  King  Agenor  to 
sit  on  his  throne,  and  must  go  along  with  Queen  Tele- 
phassa  and  her  three  youthful  companions. 

They  went  on  and  on,  and  traveled  a  long  way,  and 
passed  over  mountains  and  rivers  and  sailed  over  seas. 
Here  and  there,  and  everywhere,  they  made  continual 
inquiry  if  any  person  could  tell  them  what  had  become  of 
Europa.  The  rustic  people,  of  whom  they  asked  this 
question,  paused  a  little  while  from  their  labors  in  the 
field,  and  looked  very  much  surprised.  They  thought  it 
strange  to  behold  a  woman  in  the  garb  of  a  queen  (for 
Telephassa,  in  her  haste,  had  forgotten  to  take  off  her 
crown  and  her  royal  robes)  roaming  about  the  country, 
with  three  lads  around  her,  on  such  an  errand  as  this 
seemed  to  be.  But  nobody  could  give  them  any  tidings 
of  Europa — nobody  had  seen  a  little  girl  dressed  like  a 
princess,  and  mounted  on  a  snow-white  bull,  which  gal 
loped  as  swiftly  as  the  wind. 

I  cannot  tell  you  how  long  Queen  Telephassa,  and 
Cadmus,  and  Phoenix,  and  Cilix,  her  three  sons,  went 
wandering  along  the  highways  and  by-paths,  or  through 
the  pathless  wildernesses  of  the  earth,  in  this  manner. 
But  certain  it  is  that,  before  they  reached  any  place  of 
rest,  their  splendid  garments  were  quite  worn  out.  They 
all  looked  very  much  travel-stained,  and  would  have 
had  the  dust  of  many  countries  on  their  shoes,  if  the 
streams,  through  which  they  waded,  had  not  washed  it  all 
away.  When  they  had  been  gone  a  year,  Telephassa 
threw  away  her  crown,  because  it  chafed  her  forehead. 

"  It  has  given  me  many  a  headache,"  said  the  poor 
queen,  "  and  it  cannot  cure  my  heartache." 

As  fast  as  their  princely  robes  got  torn  and  tattered, 
they  exchanged  them  for  such  mean  attire  as  ordinary 


58  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

people  wore.  By  and  by  they  came  to  have  a  wild  and 
homeless  aspect;  so  that  you  would  much  sooner  have 
taken  them  for  a  gipsy  family  than  a  queen  and  three 
princes,  who  had  once  a  palace  for  their  home,  and  a 
train  of  servants  to  do  their  bidding.  The  three  boys 
grew  up  to  be  tall  young  men,  with  sunburnt  faces. 
Each  of  them  girded  a  sword  to  defend  himself 
against  the  perils  of  the  way.  When  the  husbandmen 
at  whose  farmhouses  they  sought  hospitality,  needed 
their  assistance  in  the  harvest-field,  they  gave  it  willingly ; 
and  Queen  Telephassa  (who  had  done  no  work  in  her 
palace,  save  to  braid  silk  threads  with  golden  ones)  came 
behind  them  to  bind  the  sheaves.  If  payment  was  offered, 
they  shook  their  heads,  and  only  asked  for  tidings  of 
Europa. 

"  There  are  bulls  enough  in  my  pasture,"  the  old  farm 
ers  would  reply ;  "  but  I  never  heard  of  one  like  this  you 
tell  me  of.  A  snow-white  bull  with  a  little  princess  on 
his  back !  Ho !  ho !  I  ask  your  pardon,  good  folks ;  but 
there  never  was  such  a  sight  seen  hereabouts." 

At  last,  when  his  upper  lip  began  to  have  the  down  on 
it,  Phoenix  grew  weary  of  rambling  hither  and  thither 
to  no  purpose.  So  one  day,  when  they  happened  to  be 
passing  through  a  pleasant  and  solitary  tract  of  coun 
try,  he  sat  himself  down  on  a  heap  of  moss. 

"  I  can  go  no  farther,"  said  Phoenix.  "  it  is  a  mere 
foolish  waste  of  life  to  spend  it,  as  we  do,  in  always 
wandering  up  and  down,  and  never  coming  to  any  home 
at  nightfall.  Our  sister  is  lost,  and  never  will  be  found. 
She  probably  perished  in  the  sea,  or  to  whatever  shore 
the  white  bull  may  have  carried  her.  It  is  now  so  many 
years  ago  that  there  would  be  neither  love  nor  ac 
quaintance  between  us,  should  we  meet  again.  My  father 


Europa  and  the  God-Bull  59 

has  forbidden  us  to  return  to  his  palace,  so  I  shall  build 
me  a  hut  of  branches  and  dwell  here." 

"  Well,  son  Phoenix,"  said  Telephassa  sorrowfully, 
"  you  have  grown  to  be  a  man,  and  must  do  as  you  judge 
best.  But,  for  my  part,  I  will  still  go  in  quest  of  my  poor 
child." 

"  And  we  two  will  go  along  with  you !  "  cried  Cadmus 
and  Cilix. 

But  before  setting  out  they  all  helped  Phoenix  to  build 
a  habitation.  When  completed  it  was  a  sweet  rural 
bower,  roofed  overhead  with  an  arch  of  living  boughs. 
Inside  there  were  two  pleasant  rooms,  one  of  which  had 
a  soft  heap  of  moss  for  a  bed,  while  the  other  was  fur 
nished  with  a  rustic  seat  or  two,  curiously  fashioned  out 
of  the  crooked  roots  of  trees.  So  comfortable  and  home 
like  did  it  seem,  that  Telephassa  and  her  two  companions 
could  not  help  sighing  to  think  that  they  must  still 
roam  about  the  world  instead  of  spending  the  remainder 
of  their  lives  in  some  such  cheerful  abode  as  they  had 
there  built  for  Phoenix.  But,  when  they  bade  him  fare- 
fell,  Phoenix  shed  tears,  and  probably  regretted  that  he 
was  no  longer  to  keep  them  company. 

However,  he  had  fixed  upon  an  admirable  place  to  dwell 
in.  And  by  and  by  there  came  other  people,  who  chanced 
to  have  no  home ;  and  seeing  how  pleasant  a  spot  it  was, 
they  built  themselves  huts  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Phoenix's  habitation.  Thus,  before  many  years  went  by, 
a  city  had  grown  up  there,  in  the  center  of  which  was 
seen  a  stately  palace  of  marble,  wherein  dwelt  Phoenix, 
clothed  in  a  purple  robe,  and  wearing  a  golden  crown 
upon  his  head.  For  the  inhabitants  of  the  new  city,  find 
ing  that  he  had  royal  blood  in  his  veins,  had  chosen  him 
to  be  their  king.  The  very  first  decree  of  state  which 


60  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

King  Phoenix  issued  was,  that  if  a  maiden  happened  to 
arrive  in  the  kingdom,  mounted  on  a  snow-white  bull  and 
calling  herself  Europa,  his  subjects  should  treat  her  with 
the  greatest  kindness  and  respect,  and  immediately  bring 
her  to  the  palace.  You  may  see  by  this  that  Phoenix's 
conscience  never  quite  ceased  to  trouble  him  for  giving 
up  the  quest  of  his  dear  sister,  and  sitting  himself  down 
to  be  comfortable,  while  his  mother  and  her  companions 
went  onward. 

But  often  and  often,  at  the  close  of  a  weary  day's 
journey,  did  Telephassa,  Cadmus,  and  Cilix  remember  the 
pleasant  spot  in  which  they  had  left  Phoenix.  It  was  a 
sorrowful  prospect  for  these  wanderers,  that  on  the  mor 
row  they  must  again  set  forth;  and  that,  after  many 
nightfalls,  they  would,  perhaps,  be  no  nearer  the  close  of 
their  toilsome  pilgrimage  than  now.  These  thoughts 
made  them  all  melancholy  at  times,  but  appeared  to  tor 
ment  Cilix  more  than  the  rest  of  the  party.  At  length, 
one  morning,  when  they  were  taking  their  staffs  in  hand 
to  set  out,  he  thus  addressed  them : 

"  My  dear  mother,  and  you,  good  brother  Cadmus, 
methinks  we  are  like  people  in  a  dream.  There  is  no 
substance  in  the  life  which  we  are  leading.  It  is  such  a 
dreary  length  of  time  since  the  white  bull  carried  off  my 
sister  Europa,  that  I  have  quite  forgotten  how  she  looked, 
and  the  tones  of  her  voice,  and,  indeed,  almost  doubt 
whether  such  a  little  girl  ever  lived  in  the  world.  And 
whether  she  once  lived  or  no,  I  am  convinced  that  she 
no  longer  survives,  and  that  therefore  it  is  the  merest 
folly  to  waste  our  own  lives  and  happiness  in  seeking 
her.  Were  we  to  find  her,  she  would  now  be  a  woman 
grown,  and  would  look  upon  us  all  as  strangers.  So,  to 
tell  you  the  truth,  I  have  resolved  to  take  up  my  abode 


Europa  and  the  God-Bull  6 1 

here;  and  I  entreat  you,  mother,  and  you,  brother,  to 
follow  my  example." 

"  Not  I,  for  one,"  said  Telephassa ;  although  the  poor 
queen,  firmly  as  she  spoke,  was  so  travel-worn  that  she 
could  hardly  put  her  foot  to  the  ground.  "  Not  I,  for 
one !  In  the  depths  of  my  heart  little  Europa  is  still  the 
rosy  child  who  ran  to  gather  flowers  so  many  years  ago. 
She  has  not  grown  to  womanhood,  nor  forgotten  me.  At 
noon,  at  night,  journeying  onward,  sitting  down  to  rest, 
her  childish  voice  is  always  in  my  ears,  calling,  '  Mother ! 
mother ! '  Stop  here  who  may,  there  is  no  repose  for  me.'* 

"  Nor  for  me,"  said  Cadmus,  "  while  my  dear  mother 
pleases  to  go  onward." 

They  remained  with  Cilix  a  few  days,  however,  and 
helped  him  to  build  a  rustic  bower,  resembling  the  one 
which  they  had  formerly  built  for  Phoenix. 

When  they  were  bidding  him  farewell,  Cilix  burst  into 
tears,  and  told  his  mother  that  it  seemed  just  as  melan 
choly  a  dream  to  stay  there  in  solitude  as  to  go  onward. 
If  she  really  believed  that  they  would  ever  find  Europa, 
he  was  willing  to  continue  the  search  with  them  even 
now.  But  Telephassa  bade  him  remain  there,  and  be 
happy,  if  his  own  heart  would  let  him.  So  the  pilgrims 
took  their  leave  of  him  and  departed,  and  were  hardly 
out  of  sight  before  some  other  wandering  people  came 
along  that  way  and  saw  Cilix's  habitation,  and  were 
greatly  delighted  with  the  appearance  of  the  place. 
There  being  abundance  of  unoccupied  ground  in  the 
neighborhood,  these  strangers  built  huts  for  themselves, 
and  were  soon  joined  by  a  multitude  of  new  settlers, 
who  quickly  formed  a  city.  In  the  middle  of  it  was  seen 
a  magnificent  palace  of  colored  marble,  on  the  balcony  of 
which,  every  noontide,  appeared  Cilix,  in  a  long  purple 


62  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

robe,  and  with  a  jeweled  crown  upon  his  head;  for  the 
inhabitants,  when  they  found  out  that  he  was  a  king's 
son,  had  considered  him  the  fittest  of  all  men  to  be  a  king 
himself. 

One  of  the  first  acts  of  King  Cilix's  government  was 
to  send  out  an  expedition,  consisting  of  a  grave  ambas 
sador  and  an  escort  of  bold  and  hardy  young  men,  with 
orders  to  visit  the  principal  kingdoms  of  the  earth,  and 
inquire  whether  a  young  maiden  had  passed  through 
those  regions,  galloping  swiftly  on  a  white  bull.  It  is 
therefore  plain  to  my  mind,  that  Cilix  secretly  blamed 
himself  for  giving  up  the  search  for  Europa,  as  long  as 
he  was  able  to  put  one  foot  before  the  other. 

Telephassa  and  Cadmus  were  now  pursuing  their  weary 
way,  with  no  companion  but  each  other.  The  queen 
leaned  heavily  upon  her  son's  arm,  and  could  walk  only 
a  few  miles  a  day.  But  for  all  her  weakness  and  weari 
ness,  she  would  not  be  persuaded  to  give  up  the  search. 
It  was  enough  to  bring  tears  into  the  eyes  of  bearded 
men  to  hear  the  melancholy  tone  with  which  she  inquired 
of  every  stranger  whether  he  could  tell  her  any  news  of 
the  lost  child. 

"  Have  you  seen  a  little  girl — no,  no,  I  mean  a  young 
maiden  of  full  growth — passing  by  this  way,  mounted 
on  a  snow-white  bull,  which  gallops  as  swiftly  as  the 
wind?" 

"  We  have  seen  no  such  wondrous  sight,"  the  people 
would  reply;  and  very  often,  taking  Cadmus  aside, 
they  whispered  to  him,  "  Is  this  stately  and  sad-looking 
woman  your  mother?  Surely  she  is  not  in  her  right 
mind;  and  you  ought  to  take  her  home,  and  make  her 
comfortable,  and  do  your  best  to  get  this  dream  out  of 
her  fancy." 


Europa  and  the  God-Bull  63 

"  It  is  no  dream,"  said  Cadmus.  "  Everything  else  is 
a  dream,  save  that." 

But  one  day  Telephassa  seemed  feebler  than  usual, 
and  leaned  almost  her  whole  weight  on  the  arm  of 
Cadmus,  and  walked  more  slowly  than  ever  before.  At 
last  they  reached  a  solitary  spot,  where  she  told  her  son 
that  she  must  needs  lie  down,  and  take  a  good  long  rest. 

"  A  good  long  rest !  "  she  repeated,  looking  Cadmus 
tenderly  in  the  face.  "A  good  long  rest,  thou  dearest 
one ! " 

"  As  long  as  you  please,  dear  mother,"  answered 
Cadmus. 

Telephassa  bade  him  sit  down  on  the  turf  beside  her, 
and  then  she  took  his  hand. 

"  My  son,"  said  she,  fixing  her  dim  eyes  most  lovingly 
upon  him,  "  this  rest  that  I  speak  of  will  be  very  long 
indeed!  You  must  not  wait  till  it  is  finished.  Dear 
Cadmus,  you  do  not  comprehend  me.  You  must  make  a 
grave  here,  and  lay  your  mother's  weary  frame  into  it. 
My  pilgrimage  is  over." 

Cadmus  burst  into  tears,  and  for  a  long  time  refused  to 
believe  that  his  dear  mother  was  now  to  be  taken  from 
him.  But  Telephassa  reasoned  with  him,  and  kissed  him, 
and  at  length  made  him  discern  that  it  was  better  for 
her  spirit  to  pass  away  out  of  the  toil,  the  weariness,  the 
grief,  and  disappointment  which  had  burdened  her  on 
earth,  ever  since  the  child  was  lost.  He  therefore  re 
pressed  his  sorrow,  and  listened  to  her  last  words. 

"  Dearest  Cadmus,"  said  she,  "  thou  hast  been  the 
truest  son  that  ever  mother  had,  and  faithful  to  the 
very  last.  Who  else  would  have  borne  with  my  infirmi 
ties  as  thou  hast?  It  is  owing  to  thy  care,  thou  tenderest 
child,  that  my  grave  was  not  dug  long  years  ago,  in  some 


64  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

valley  or  on  some  hillside,  that  lies  far,  far  behind  us. 
It  is  enough.  Thou  shalt  wander  no  more  on  this  hope 
less  search.  But  when  thou  hast  laid  thy  mother  in  the 
earth,  then  go,  my  son,  to  Delphi,  and  inquire  of  the 
oracle  what  thou  shalt  do  next." 

"  Oh,  mother,  mother,"  cried  Cadmus,  "  couldst  thou 
but  have  seen  my  sister  before  this  hour !  " 

"  It  matters  little  now,"  answered  Telephassa,  and  there 
was  a  smile  upon  her  face.  "  I  go  now  to  the  better 
world,  and  sooner  or  later,  shall  find  my  daughter  there." 

I  will  not  sadden  you  with  telling  how  Telephassa  died 
and  was  buried,  but  will  only  say,  that  her  dying  smile 
grew  brighter,  instead  of  vanishing  from  her  dead  face; 
so  that  Cadmus  felt  convinced  that,  at  her  very  first  step 
into  the  better  world,  she  had  caught  Europa  in  her  arms. 
He  planted  some  flowers  on  his  mother's  grave,  and  left 
them  to  grow  there  and  make  the  place  beautiful  when 
he  should  be  far  away. 


CADMUS  AND  THE  DRAGON'S  TEETH 

BY  NATHANIEL   HAWTHORNE 

AFTER  performing  this  last  sorrowful  duty,  he 
set  forth  alone,  and  took  the  road  towards  the 
famous  oracle  of  Delphi,  as  Telephassa  had  advised  him. 
On  his  way  thither  he  still  inquired  of  most  people  whom 
he  met  whether  they  had  seen  Europa;  for,  to  say  the 
truth,  Cadmus  had  grown  so  accustomed  to  ask  the 
question,  that  it  came  to  his  lips  as  readily  as  a  remark 
about  the  weather.  He  received  various  answers.  Some 
told  him  one  thing,  and  some  another.  Among  the  rest, 
a  mariner  affirmed  that,  many  years  before,  in  a  distant 
country,  he  had  heard  a  rumor  about  a  white  bull,  which 
came  swimming  across  the  sea  with  a  child  on  his  back, 
dressed  up  in  flowers  that  were  blighted  by  the  sea 
water.  He  did  not  know  what  had  become  of  the  child 
or  the  bull;  and  Cadmus  suspected,  indeed,  by  a  queer 
twinkle  in  the  mariner's  eyes,  that  he  was  putting  a  joke 
upon  him,  and  had  never  really  heard  anything  about  the 
matter. 

Poor  Cadmus  found  it  more  wearisome  to  travel  alone 
than  to  bear  all  his  dear  mother's  weight,  while  she  had 
kept  him  company.  His  heart,  you  will  understand,  was 
now  so  heavy  that  it  seemed  impossible,  sometimes,  to 
carry  it  any  farther.  But  his  limbs  were  strong  and 
active,  and  well  accustomed  to  exercise.  He  walked 
swiftly  along,  thinking  of  King  Agenor  and  Queen  Tele 
phassa,  and  his  brothers,  all  of  whom  he  had  left  be- 

65 


66  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

hind  him,  at  one  point  of  his  pilgrimage  or  another,  and 
never  expected  to  see  them  any  more.  Full  of  these 
remembrances,  he  came  within  sight  of  a  lofty  moun 
tain,  which  the  people  thereabouts  told  him  was  called 
Parnassus.  On  the  slope  of  Mount  Parnassus  was  the 
famous  Delphi  whither  Cadmus  was  going. 

This  Delphi  was  supposed  to  be  the  very  midmost  spot 
of  the  whole  world.  The  place  of  the  oracle  was  a  cer 
tain  cavity  in  the  mountain-side,  over  which,  when  Cad 
mus  came  thither,  he  found  a  rude  bower  of  branches. 
It  reminded  him  of  those  which  he  had  helped  to  build 
for  Phcenix  and  Cilix.  In  later  times,  when  multitudes  of 
people  came  from  great  distances  to  put  questions  to  the 
oracle,  a  spacious  temple  of  marble  was  erected  over  the 
spot.  But  in  the  days  of  Cadmus,  as  I  have  told  you, 
there  was  only  this  rustic  bower,  with  its  abundance  of 
green  foliage  and  a  tuft  of  shrubbery  that  ran  wild  over 
the  mysterious  hole  in  the  hillside. 

When  Cadmus  had  thrust  a  passage  through  the 
tangled  boughs,  and  made  his  way  into  the  bower,  he 
did  not  at  first  discern  the  half-hidden  cavity.  But  soon 
he  felt  a  cold  stream  of  air  rushing  out  of  it,  with  so 
much  force  that  it  shook  the  ringlets  on  his  cheeks. 
Pulling  away  the  shrubbery  which  clustered  over  the 
hole,  he  bent  forward  and  spoke  in  a  distinct  but  rever 
ential  tone,  as  if  addressing  some  unseen  personage  inside 
of  the  mountain. 

"  Sacred  oracle  of  Delphi,"  said  he,  "  whither  shall  I 
go  next  in  quest  of  my  dear  sister  Europa  ?  " 

There  was  at  first  a  deep  silence,  and  then  a  rushing 
sound,  or  a  noise  like  a  long  sigh,  proceeding  out  of  the 
interior  of  the  earth.  This  cavity,  you  must  know,  was 
looked  upon  as  a  sort  of  fountain  of  truth,  which  some- 


Cadmus  and  the  Dragon's  Teeth  67 

times  gushed  out  in  audible  words;  although,  for  the 
most  part,  these  words  were  such  a  riddle  that  they 
might  as  well  have  stayed  at  the  bottom  of  the  hole.  But 
Cadmus  was  more  fortunate  than  many  others  who  went 
to  Delphi  in  search  of  truth.  By  and  by  the  rushing 
noise  began  to  sound  like  articulate  language.  It  re 
peated,  over  and  over  again,  the  following  sentence, 
which,  after  all,  was  so  like  the  vague  whistle  of  a  blast 
of  air,  that  Cadmus  really  did  not  quite  know  whether 
it  meant  anything  or  not :  "  Seek  her  no  more !  Seek  her 
no  more !  Seek  her  no  more !  " 

"What,  then,  shall  I  do?"  asked  Cadmus. 

For  ever  since  he  was  a  child,  you  know,  it  had  been 
the.  great  object  of  his  life  to  find  his  sister.  From  the 
very  hour  that  he  left  following  the  butterfly  in  the 
meadow,  near  his  father's  palace,  he  had  done  his  best 
to  follow  Europa,  over  land  and  sea.  And  now,  if  he 
must  give  up  the  search,  he  seemed  to  have  no  more 
business  in  the  world. 

But  again  the  sighing  gust  of  air  grew  into  something 
like  a  hoarse  voice. 

"  Follow  the  cow !  "  it  said.  "  Follow  the  cow !  Fol 
low  the  cow ! " 

And  when  these  words  had  been  repeated  until  Cadmus 
was  tired  of  hearing  them  (especially  as  he  could  not 
imagine  what  cow  it  was,  or  why  he  was  to  follow  her), 
the  gusty  hole  gave  vent  to  another  sentence. 

"  Where  the  stray  cow  lies  down,  there  is  your 
home." 

These  words  were  pronounced  but  a  single  time,  and 
died  away  into  a  whisper  before  Cadmus  was  fully  satis 
fied  that  he  had  caught  the  meaning.  He  put  other 
questions  but  received  no  answer;  only  the  gust  of  wind 


68  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

sighed  continually  out  of  the  cavity,  and  blew  the  withered 
leaves  rustling  along  the  ground  before  it. 

"  Did  there  really  come  any  words  out  of  the  hole  ?  " 
thought  Cadmus ;  "  or  have  I  been  dreaming  all  this 
while?" 

He  turned  away  from  the  oracle,  and  thought  himself 
no  wiser  than  when  he  came  thither.  Caring  little  what 
might  happen  to  him,  he  took  the  first  path  that  offered 
itself,  and  went  along  at  a  sluggish  pace ;  for,  having  no 
object  in  view,  nor  any  reason  to  go  one  way  more  than 
another,  it  would  certainly  have  been  foolish  to  make 
haste.  Whenever  he  met  anybody,  the  old  question  was 
at  his  tongue's  end :  "  Have  you  seen  a  beautiful  maiden, 
dressed  like  a  king's  daughter,  and  mounted  on  a  snow- 
white  bull,  that  gallops  as  swiftly  as  the  wind?" 

But,  remembering  what  the  oracle  had  said,  he  only 
half  uttered  the  words,  and  then  mumbled  the  rest  in 
distinctly;  and  from  his  confusion,  people  must  have 
imagined  that  this  handsome  young  man  had  lost  his 
wits. 

I  know  not  how  far  Cadmus  had  gone,  nor  could  he 
himself  have  told  you,  when,  at  no  great  distance  before 
him,  he  beheld  a  brindled  cow.  She  was  lying  down  by 
the  wayside,  and  quietly  chewing  her  cud;  nor  did  she 
take  any  notice  of  the  young  man  until  he  had  approached 
pretty  nigh.  Then  getting  leisurely  upon  her  feet,  and 
giving  her  head  a  gentle  toss,  she  began  to  move  along 
at  a  moderate  pace,  often  pausing  just  long  enough  to 
crop  a  mouthful  of  grass.  Cadmus  loitered  behind, 
whistling  idly  to  himself,  and  scarcely  noticing  the  cow, 
until  the  thought  occurred  to  him,  whether  this  could 
possibly  be  the  animal  which,  according  to  the  oracle's 
response,  was  to  serve  him  for  a  guide.  But  he  smiled  at 


.Cadmus  and  the  Dragon's  Teeth  69 

himself  for  fancying  such  a  thing.  He  could  not  seri 
ously  think  that  this  was  the  cow,  because  she  went  along 
so  quietly,  behaving  just  like  any  other  cow.  Evidently 
she  neither  knew  nor  cared  so  much  as  a  wisp  of 
hay  about  Cadmus,  and  was  only  thinking  how  to  get 
her  living  along  the  wayside,  where  the  herbage  was 
green  and  fresh.  Perhaps  she  was  going  home  to  be 
milked. 

"Cow,  cow,  cow!"  cried  Cadmus.  "Hey,  Brindle, 
hey!  Stop,  my  good  cow." 

He  wanted  to  come  up  with  the  cow,  so  as  to  examine 
her,  and  see  if  she  would  appear  to  know  him,  or 
whether  there  were  any  peculiarities  to  distinguish  her 
from  a  thousand  other  cows,  whose  only  business  is  to 
fill  the  milk-pail,  and  sometimes  kick  it  over.  But  still 
the  brindled  cow  trudged  on,  whisking  her  tail  to  keep 
the  flies  away,  and  taking  as  little  notice  of  Cadmus  as 
she  well  could.  If  he  walked  slowly,  so  did  the  cow,  and 
seized  the  opportunity  to  graze.  If  he  quickened  his 
pace,  the  cow  went  just  so  much  faster;  and  once,  when 
Cadmus  tried  to  catch  her  by  running,  she  threw  out 
her  heels,  stuck  her  tail  straight  on  end,  and  set  off  at  a 
gallop,  looking  as  queerly  as  cows  generally  do  while 
putting  themselves  to  their  speed. 

When  Cadmus  saw  that  it  was  impossible  to  come  up 
with  her,  he  walked  on  moderately,  as  before.  The  cow, 
too,  went  leisurely  on,  without  looking  behind.  Wherever 
the  grass  was  greenest,  there  she  nibbled  a  mouthful  or 
two.  Where  a  brook  glistened  brightly  across  the  path, 
there  the  cow  drank,  and  breathed  a  comfortable  sigh, 
and  drank  again,  and  trudged  onward  at  the  pace  that 
best  suited  herself  and  Cadmus. 

"  I  do  believe/'  thought  Cadmus,  "  that  this  may  be  the 


70  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

cow  that  was  foretold  me.  If  it  be  the  one,  I  suppose  she 
will  lie  down  somewhere  hereabouts." 

Whether  it  was  the  oracular  cow  or  some  other  one, 
it  did  not  seem  reasonable  that  she  should  travel  a  great 
way  farther.  So,  whenever  they  reached  a  particularly 
pleasant  spot  on  a  breezy  hillside,  or  in  a  sheltered  vale, 
or  flowery  meadow,  on  the  shore  of  a  calm  lake,  or  along 
the  bank  of  a  clear  stream,  Cadmus  looked  eagerly 
around  to  see  if  the  situation  would  suit  him  for  a  home. 
But  still,  whether  he  liked  the  place  or  no,  the  brindle 
cow  never  offered  to  lie  down.  On  she  went  at  the  quiet 
pace  of  a  cow  going  homeward  to  the  barn-yard;  and 
every  moment  Cadmus  expected  to  see  a  milkmaid  ap 
proaching  with  a  pail,  or  a  herdsman  running  to  head 
the  stray  animal  and  turn  her  back  towards  the  pasture. 
But  no  milkmaid  came ;  no  herdsman  drove  her  back ;  and 
Cadmus  followed  the  stray  brindle  till  he  was  almost 
ready  to  drop  down  with  fatigue. 

"  Oh,  brindled  cow,"  cried  he,  in  a  tone  of  despair, 
"  do  you  never  mean  to  stop  ?  " 

He  had  now  grown  too  intent  on  following  her  to  think 
of  lagging  behind,  however  long  the  way  and  whatever 
might  be  his  fatigue.  Indeed,  it  seemed  as  if  there  were 
something  about  the  animal  that  bewitched  people.  Sev 
eral  persons  who  happened  to  see  the  brindled  cow,  and 
Cadmus  following  behind,  began  to  trudge  after  her,  pre 
cisely  as  he  did.  Cadmus  was  glad  of  somebody  to  con 
verse  with,  and  therefore  talked  very  freely  to  these  good 
people.  He  told  them  all  his  adventures,  and  how  he  had 
left  King  Agenor  in  his  palace,  and  Phoenix  at  one  place, 
and  Cilix  at  another,  and  his  dear  mother,  Queen  Tele- 
phassa,  under  a  flowery  sod;  so  that  now  he  was  quite 
alone,  both  friendless  and  homeless.  He  mentioned  like- 


Cadmus  and  the  Dragon's  Teeth  71 

wise,  that  the  oracle  had  bidden  him  be  guided  by  a 
cow,  and  inquired  of  the  strangers  whether  they  sup 
posed  that  this  brindled  animal  could  be  the  one. 

"  Why,  'tis  a  very  wonderful  affair,"  answered  one  of 
his  new  companions.  "  I  am  pretty  well  acquainted  with 
the  ways  of  cattle,  and  I  never  knew  a  cow,  of  her  own 
accord,  go  so  far  without  stopping.  If  my  legs  will  let 
me,  I'll  never  leave  following  the  beast  till  she  lies  down." 

"  Nor  I !  "  said  a  second. 

"  Nor  I !  "  cried  a  third.  "  If  she  goes  a  hundred  miles 
farther,  I'm  determined  to  see  the  end  of  it." 

The  secret  of  it  was,  you  must  know,  that  the  cow  was 
an  enchanted  cow,  and  that,  without  their  being  conscious 
of  it,  she  threw  some  of  her  enchantment  over  everybody 
that  took  so  much  as  half-a-dozen  steps  behind  her. 
They  could  not  possibly  help  following  her,  though  all  the 
time  they  fancied  themselves  doing  it  of  their  own  ac 
cord.  The  cow  was  by  no  means  very  nice  in  choosing 
her  path,  so  that  sometimes  they  had  to  scramble  over 
rocks,  or  wade  through  mud  and  mire,  and  were  all  in  a 
terribly  bedraggled  condition,  and  tired  to  death,  and 
very  hungry,  into  the  bargain.  What  a  weary  business 
it  was ! 

But  still  they  kept  trudging  stoutly  forward,  and 
talking  as  they  went.  The  strangers  grew  very  fond  of 
Cadmus,  and  resolved  never  to  leave  him,  but  to  help  him 
build  a  city  wherever  the  cow  might  lie  down.  In  the 
center  of  it  there  should  be  a  noble  palace,  in  which  Cad 
mus  might  dwell  and  be  their  king,  with  a  throne,  a 
crown  and  scepter,  a  purple  robe,  and  everything  else 
that  a  king  ought  to  have ;  for  in  him  there  were  the  royal 
blood,  and  the  royal  heart,  and  the  head  that  knew  how 
to  rule. 


72  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

While  they  were  talking  of  these  schemes,  and  be 
guiling  the  tediousness  of  the  way  with  laying  out  the 
plan  of  the  new  city,  one  of  the  company  happened  to 
look  at  the  cow. 

"  J°y  •  J°y '  "  cried  he,  clapping  his  hands.  "  Brindle 
is  going  to  lie  down." 

They  all  looked;  and,  sure  enough,  the  cow  had 
stopped  and  was  staring  leisurely  about  her,  as  other 
cows  do  when  on  the  point  of  lying  down.  And  slowly, 
slowly  did  she  recline  herself  on  the  soft  grass,  first 
bending  her  fore-legs,  and  then  crouching  her  hind  ones. 
When  Cadmus  and  his  companions  came  up  with  her, 
there  was  the  brindled  cow  taking  her  ease,  chewing  her 
cud,  and  looking  them  quietly  in  the  face ;  as  if  this  was 
just  the  spot  she  had  been  seeking  for,  and  as  if  it  were 
all  a  matter  of  course. 

"  This,  then,"  said  Cadmus,  gazing  around  him,  "  this 
is  to  be  my  home." 

It  was  a  fertile  and  lovely  plain,  with  great  trees  fling 
ing  their  sun-speckled  shadows  over  it,  and  hills  fencing  it 
in  from  the  rough  weather.  At  no  great  distance  they 
beheld  a  river  gleaming  in  the  sunshine.  A  home  feeling 
stole  into  the  heart  of  poor  Cadmus.  He  was  very  glad 
to  know  that  here  he  might  awake  in  the  morning  with 
out  the  necessity  of  putting  on  his  dusty  sandals  to  travel 
farther  and  farther.  The  days  and  the  years  would  pass 
over  him,  and  find  him  still  in  this  pleasant  spot.  If 
he  could  have  had  his  brothers  with  him,  and  could  have 
seen  his  dear  mother  under  a  roof  of  his  own,  he  might 
here  have  been  happy,  after  all  their  disappointments. 
Some  day  or  other,  too,  his  sister  Europa  might  have 
come  quietly  to  the  door  of  his  home,  and  smiled  round 
upon  the  familiar  faces.  But,  indeed,  since  there  was 


Cadmus  and  the  Dragon's  Teeth  73 

no  hope  of  regaining  the  friends  of  his  boyhood,  or 
ever  seeing  his  dear  sister  again,  Cadmus  resolved  to 
make  himself  happy  with  these  new  companions  who 
had  grown  so  fond  of  him  while  following  the  cow. 

"  Yes,  my  friends,"  said  he  to  them,  "  this  is  to  be  our 
home.  Here  we  will  build  our  habitations.  The  brindled 
cow  which  has  led  us  hither  will  supply  us  with  milk. 
We  will  cultivate  the  neighboring  soil,  and  lead  an  inno 
cent  and  happy  life." 

His  companions  joyfully  assented  to  this  plan;  and,  in 
the  first  place,  being  very  hungry  and  thirsty,  they  looked 
about  them  for  the  means  of  providing  a  comfortable 
meal.  Not  far  off  they  saw  a  tuft  of  trees,  which  ap 
peared  as  if  there  might  be  a  spring  of  water  beneath 
them.  They  went  thither  to  fetch  some,  leaving  Cadmus 
stretched  on  the  ground  along  with  the  brindled  cow; 
for,  now  that  he  had  found  a  place  of  rest,  it  seemed  as  if 
all  the  weariness  of  his  pilgrimage,  ever  since  he  left  King 
Agenor's  palace,  had  fallen  upon  him  at  once.  But  his 
new  friends  had  not  long  been  gone  when  he  was  sud 
denly  startled  by  cries,  shouts,  and  screams,  and  the  noise 
of  a  most  terrible  struggle,  and  in  the  midst  of  it  all  a 
most  awful  hissing,  which  went  right  through  his  ears 
like  a  rough  saw. 

Running  towards  the  tuft  of  trees,  he  beheld  the  head 
and  fiery  eyes  of  an  immense  serpent  or  dragon,  with  the 
widest  jaws  that  ever  a  dragon  had,  and  a  vast  many  rows 
of  horribly  sharp  teeth.  Before  Cadmus  could  reach  the 
spot,  this  pitiless  reptile  had  killed  his  poor  companions, 
and  was  busily  devouring  them,  making  but  a  mouthful 
of  each  man. 

It  appears  that  the  fountain  of  water  was  enchanted, 
and  that  the  dragon  had  been  set  to  guard  it,  so  that  no 


74  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

mortal  might  ever  quench  his  thirst  there.  As  the  neigh 
boring  inhabitants  carefully  avoided  the  spot,  it  was  now 
a  long  time  (not  less  than  a  hundred  years,  or  there 
abouts)  since  the  monster  had  broken  his  fast;  and,  as 
was  natural  enough,  his  appetite  had  grown  to  be  enor 
mous,  and  was  not  half  satisfied  by  the  poor  people  whom* 
he  had  just  eaten  up.  When  he  caught  sight  of  Cadmus, 
therefore,  he  set  up  another  abominable  hiss,  and  flung 
back  his  immense  jaws,  until  his  mouth  looked  like  a 
great  red  cavern,  at  the  farther  end  of  which  were  seen 
the  legs  of  his  last  victim,  whom  he  had  hardly  had  time 
to  swallow. 

But  Cadmus  was  so  enraged  at  the  destruction  of  his 
friends,  that  he  cared  neither  for  the  size  of  the  dragon's 
jaws  nor  for  his  hundreds  of  sharp  teeth.  Drawing  his 
sword  he  rushed  at  the  monster,  and  flung  himself  right 
into  his  cavernous  mouth.  This  bold  method  of  attacking 
him  took  the  dragon  by  surprise ;  for,  in  fact,  Cadmus  had 
leaped  so  far  down  into  his  throat,  that  the  rows  of 
terrible  teeth  could  not  close  upon  him,  nor  do  him  the 
least  harm  in  the  world.  Thus,  though  the  struggle  was 
a  tremendous  one,  and  though  the  dragon  shattered  the 
tuft  of  trees  into  small  splinters  by  the  lashing  of  his 
tail,  yet,  as  Cadmus  was  all  the  while  slashing  and  stab 
bing  at  his  very  vitals,  it  was  not  long  before  the  scaly 
wretch  bethought  himself  of  slipping  away.  He  had  not 
gone  his  length,  however,  when  the  brave  Cadmus  gave 
him  a  sword  thrust  that  finished  the  battle ;  and,  creeping 
out  of  the  gateway  of  the  creature's  jaws,  there  he  beheld 
him  still  wriggling  his  vast  bulk,  although  there  was  no 
longer  life  enough  in  him  to  harm  a  little  child. 

But  do  not  you  suppose  that  it  made  Cadmus  sorrow 
ful  to  think  of  the  melancholy  fate  which  had  befallen 


Cadmus  and  the  Dragon's  Teeth  75 

those  poor,  friendly  people,  who  had  followed  the  cow 
along  with  him?  It  seemed  as  if  he  were  doomed  to  lose 
everybody  whom  he  loved,  or  to  see  them  perish  in  one 
way  or  another.  And  here  he  was,  after  all  his  toils  and 
troubles,  in  a  solitary  place,  with  not  a  single  human 
being  to  help  him  build  a  hut. 

"  What  shall  I  do  ?  "  cried  he  aloud.  "  It  were  better 
for  me  to  have  been  devoured  by  the  dragon,  as  my  poor 
companions  were." 

"  Cadmus,"  said  a  voice — but  whether  it  came  from 
above  or  below  him,  or  whether  it  spoke  within  his  own 
breast,  the  young  man  could  not  tell — "  Cadmus,  pluck 
out  the  dragon's  teeth,  and  plant  them  in  the  earth." 

This  was  a  strange  thing  to  do ;  nor  was  it  very  easy, 
I  should  imagine,  to  dig  out  all  those  deep-rooted  fangs 
from  the  dead  dragon's  jaws.  But  Cadmus  toiled  and 
tugged,  and  after  pounding  the  monstrous  head  almost  to 
pieces  with  a  great  stone,  he  at  last  collected  as  many 
teeth  as  might  have  filled  a  bushel  or  two.  The  next  thing 
was  to  plant  them.  This,  likewise,  was  a  tedious  piece 
of  work,  especially  as  Cadmus  was  already  exhausted 
with  killing  the  dragon  and  knocking  his  head  to  pieces, 
and  had  nothing  to  dig  the  earth  with,  that  I  know  of, 
unless  it  were  his  sword-blade.  Finally,  however,  a 
sufficiently  large  tract  of  ground  was  turned  up,  and 
sown  with  this  new  kind  of  seed;  although  half  of  the 
dragon's  teeth  still  remained  to  be  planted  some  other 
day. 

Cadmus,  quite  out  of  breath,  stood  leaning  upon  his 
sword,  and  wondering  what  was  to  happen  next.  He 
had  waited  but  a  few  moments  when  he  began  to  see  a 
sight  which  was  as  great  a  marvel  as  the  most  marvelous 
thing  I  ever  told  you  about. 


76  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

The  sun  was  shining  slantwise  over  the  field,  and 
showed  all  the  moist,  dark  soil,  just  like  any  other  newly 
planted  piece  of  ground.  All  at  once,  Cadmus  fancied  he 
saw  something  glisten  very  brightly,  first  at  one  spot, 
then  at  another,  and  then  at  a  hundred  and  a  thousand 
spots  together.  Soon  he  perceived  them  to  be  the  steel 
heads  of  spears,  sprouting  up  everywhere  like  so  many 
stalks  of  grain,  and  continually  growing  taller  and  taller. 
Next  appeared  a  vast  number  of  bright  sword-blades, 
thrusting  themselves  up  in  the  same  way.  A  moment 
afterwards,  the  whole  surface  of  the  ground  was  broken 
by  a  multitude  of  polished  brass  helmets,  coming  up 
like  a  crop  of  enormous  beans.  So  rapidly  did  they  grow, 
that  Cadmus  now  discerned  the  fierce  countenance  of  a 
man  beneath  every  one.  In  short,  before  he  had  time 
to  think  what  a  wonderful  affair  it  was,  he  beheld  an 
abundant  harvest  of  what  looked  like  human  beings, 
armed  with  helmets  and  breastplates,  shields,  swords,  and 
spears ;  and  before  they  were  well  out  of  the  earth,  they 
brandished  their  weapons,  and  clashed  them  one  against 
another,  seeming  to  think,  little  while  as  they  had  yet 
lived,  that  they  had  wasted  too  much  of  life  without 
battle.  Every  tooth  of  the  dragon  had  produced  one  of 
these  sons  of  deadly  mischief. 

Up  sprouted,  also,  a  great  many  trumpeters ;  and  with 
the  first  breath  that  they  drew,  they  put  their  brazen 
trumpets  to  their  lips,  and  sounded  a  tremendous  and 
ear-shattering  blast ;  so  that  the  whole  space,  just  now  so 
quiet  and  solitary,  reverberated  with  the  clash  and 
clang  of  arms,  the  bray  of  warlike  music,  and  the  shouts 
of  angry  men.  So  enraged  did  they  all  look,  that  Cadmus 
fully  expected  them  to  put  the  whole  world  to  the  sword. 
How  fortunate  would  it  be  for  a  great  conqueror, 


Cadmus  and  the  Dragon's  Teeth  77 

if  he  could  get  a  bushel  of  the  dragon's  teeth  to 
sow! 

"  Cadmus,"  said  the  same  voice  which  he  had  before 
heard,  "  throw  a  stone  into  the  midst  of  the  armed 
men." 

So  Cadmus  seized  a  large  stone,  and,  flinging  it  into 
the  middle  of  the  army,  saw  it  strike  the  breastplate  of 
a  gigantic  and  fierce-looking  warrior.  Immediately  on 
feeling  the  blow,  he  seemed  to  take  it  for  granted  that 
somebody  had  struck  him;  and,  uplifting  his  weapon, 
he  smote  his  next  neighbor  a  blow  that  cleft  his  helmet 
asunder  and  stretched  him  on  the  ground.  In  an  instant 
those  nearest  the  fallen  warrior  began  to  strike  at  one 
another  with  their  swords,  and  stab  with  their  spears. 
The  confusion  spread  wider  and  wider.  Each  man  smote 
down  his  brother,  and  was  himself  smitten  down  before 
he  had  time  to  exult  in  his  victory.  The  trumpeters, 
all  the  while,  blew  their  blasts  shriller  and  shriller;  each 
soldier  shouted  a  battle-cry,  and  often  fell  with  it  on  his 
lips.  It  was  the  strangest  spectacle  of  causeless  wrath, 
and  of  mischief  for  no  good  end,  that  had  ever  been  wit 
nessed  ;  but,  after  all,  it  was  neither  more  foolish  nor  more 
wicked  than  a  thousand  battles  that  have  since  been 
fought,  in  which  men  have  slain  their  brothers  with  just 
as  little  reason  as  these  children  of  the  dragon's  teeth.  It 
ought  to  be  considered,  too,  that  the  dragon  people  were 
made  for  nothing  else ;  whereas  other  mortals  were  born 
to  love  and  help  one  another. 

Well,  this  memorable  battle  continued  to  rage  until  the 
ground  was  strewn  with  helmeted  heads  that  had  been 
cut  off.  Of  all  the  thousands  that  began  the  fight,  there 
were  only  five  left  standing.  These  now  rushed  from 
different  parts  of  the  field,  and,  meeting  in  the  middle  of 


78  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

it,  clashed  their  swords  and  struck  at  each  other's  hearts 
as  fiercely  as  ever. 

"  Cadmus,"  said  the  voice  again,  "  bid  those  five  war 
riors  sheathe  their  swords.  They  will  help  you  to  build 
the  city." 

Without  hesitating  an  instant,  Cadmus  stepped  for 
ward,  with  the  aspect  of  a  king  and  a  leader,  and  extend 
ing  his  drawn  sword  amongst  them,  spoke  to  the  war 
riors  in  a  stern  and  commanding  voice. 

"  Sheathe  your  weapons !  "  said  he. 

And  forthwith,  feeling  themselves  bound  to  obey  him, 
the  five  remaining  sons  of  the  dragon's  teeth  made  him  a 
military  salute  with  their  swords,  returned  them  to  the 
scabbards,  and  stood  before  Cadmus  in  a  rank,  eying 
him  as  soldiers  eye  their  captain  while  awaiting  the  word 
of  command. 

These  five  men  had  probably  sprung  from  the  biggest 
of  the  dragon's  teeth,  and  were  the  boldest  and  stron 
gest  of  the  whole  army.  They  were  almost  giants,  indeed, 
and  had  good  need  to  be  so,  else  they  never  could  have 
lived  through  so  terrible  a  fight.  They  still  had  a  very 
furious  look,  and,  if  Cadmus  happened  to  glance  aside, 
would  glare  at  one  another  with  fire  flashing  out  of  their 
eyes.  It  was  strange,  too,  to  observe  how  the  earth,  out 
of  which  they  had  so  lately  grown,  was  incrusted  here 
and  there  on  their  bright  breastplates,  and  even  begrimed 
their  faces ;  just  as  you  may  have  seen  it  clinging  to  beets 
and  carrots  when  pulled  out  of  their  native  soil.  Cadmus 
hardly  knew  whether  to  consider  them  as  men,  or  some 
odd  kind  of  vegetable;  although,  on  the  whole,  he  con 
cluded  that  there  was  human  nature  in  them,  because  they 
were  so  fond  of  trumpets  and  weapons,  and  so  ready  to 
shed  blood. 


Cadmus  and  the  Dragon's  Teeth  79 

They  looked  him  earnestly  in  the  face,  waiting  for  his 
next  order,  and  evidently  desiring  no  other  employment 
than  to  follow  him  from  one  battlefield  to  another,  all 
over  the  wide  world.  But  Cadmus  was  wiser  than  these 
earth-born  creatures,  with  the  dragon's  fierceness  in  them, 
and  knew  better  how  to  use  their  strength  and  hardihood. 

"  Come !  "  said  he.  "  You  are  sturdy  fellows.  Make 
yourselves  useful !  Quarry  some  stones  with  those  great 
swords  of  yours,  and  help  me  to  build  a  city." 

The  five  soldiers  grumbled  a  little,  and  muttered  that 
it  was  their  business  to  overthrow  cities,  not  to  build 
them  up.  But  Cadmus  looked  at  them  with  a  stern  eye, 
and  spoke  to  them  in  a  tone  of  authority,  so  that  they 
knew  him  for  their  master,  and  never  again  thought  of 
disobeying  his  commands.  They  set  to  work  in  good 
earnest,  and  toiled  so  diligently,  that,  in  a  very  short  time, 
a  city  began  to  make  its  appearance.  At  first,  to  be  sure, 
the  workmen  showed  a  quarrelsome  disposition.  Like 
savage  beasts,  they  would  doubtless  have  done  one 
another  mischief,  if  Cadmus  had  not  kept  watch  over 
them  and  quelled  the  fierce  old  serpent  that  lurked  in  their 
hearts  when  he  saw  it  gleaming  out  of  their  wild  eyes. 
But,  in  course  of  time,  they  got  accustomed  to  honest 
labor,  and  had  sense  enough  to  feel  that  there  was  more 
true  enjoyment  in  living  at  peace,  and  doing  good  to  one's 
neighbor,  than  in  striking  at  him  with  a  two-edged  sword. 
It  may  not  be  too  much  to  hope  that  the  rest  of  mankind 
will  by  and  by  grow  as  wise  and  peaceable  as  these  five 
earth-begrimed  warriors  who  sprang  from  the  dragon's 
teeth. 

And  now  the  city  was  built,  and  there  was  a  home  in  it 
for  each  of  the  workmen.  But  the  palace  of  Cadmus  was 
not  yet  erected,  because  they  had  left  it  till  the  last,  mean- 


8o  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

ing  to  introduce  all  the  new  improvements  of  architecture, 
and  make  it  very  commodious,  as  well  as  stately  and 
beautiful.  After  finishing  the  rest  of  their  labors,  they 
all  went  to  bed  betimes,  in  order  to  rise  in  the  gray  of 
the  morning,  and  to  get  at  least  the  foundation  of  the 
edifice  laid  before  nightfall.  But,  when  Cadmus  arose 
and  took  his  way  towards  the  site  where  the  palace  was 
to  be  built,  followed  by  his  five  sturdy  workmen  march 
ing  all  in  a  row,  what  do  you  think  he  saw? 

What  should  it  be  but  the  most  magnificent  palace  that 
had  ever  been  seen  in  the  world?  It  was  built  of  marble 
and  other  beautiful  kinds  of  stone,  and  rose  high  into 
the  air,  with  a  splendid  dome  and  a  portico  along  the 
front,  and  carved  pillars,  and  everything  else  that  befitted 
the  habitation  of  a  mighty  king.  It  had  grown  up  out  of 
the  earth  in  almost  as  short  a  time  as  it  had  taken  the 
armed  host  to  spring  from  the  dragon's  teeth ;  and  what 
made  the  matter  more  strange,  no  seed  of  the  stately 
edifice  had  ever  been  planted. 

When  the  five  workmen  beheld  the  dome,  with  the 
morning  sunshine  making  it  look  golden  and  glorious, 
they  gave  a  great  shout. 

"  Long  live  King  Cadmus,"  they  cried,  "  in  his  beautiful 
palace !  " 

And  the  new  king,  with  his  five  faithful  followers  at 
his  heels,  shouldering  their  pickaxes  and  marching  in  a 
rank  (for  they  still  had  a  soldier-like  sort  of  behavior, 
as  their  nature  was),  ascended  the  palace  steps.  Halting 
at  the  entrance,  they  gazed  through  a  long  vista  of  lofty 
pillars  that  were  ranged  from  end  to  end  of  a  great  hall. 
At  the  farther  extremity  of  this  hall,  approaching  slowly 
towards  him,  Cadmus  beheld  a  female  figure,  wonder 
fully  beautiful,  and  adorned  with  a  royal  robe,  and  a 


Cadmus  and  the  Dragon's  Teeth  81 

crown  of  diamonds  over  her  golden  ringlets,  and  the 
richest  necklace  that  ever  a  queen  wore.  His  heart 
thrilled  with  delight.  He  fancied  it  his  long-lost  sister 
Europa,  now  grown  to  womanhood,  coming  to  make  him 
happy,  and  to  repay  him,  with  her  sweet  sisterly  affection, 
for  all  those  weary  wanderings  in  quest  of  her  since  he 
left  King  Agenor's  palace — for  the  tears  that  he  had 
shed,  on  parting  with  Phcenix  and  Cilix — for  the  heart- 
breakings  that  had  made  the  whole  world  seem  dismal  to 
him  over  his  dear  mother's  grave. 

But,  as  Cadmus  advanced  to  meet  the  beautiful 
stranger,  he  saw  that  her  features  were  unknown  to  him, 
although,  in  the  little  time  that  it  required  to  tread  along 
the  hall,  he  had  already  felt  a  sympathy  betwixt  himself 
and  her. 

"  No,  Cadmus,"  said  the  same  voice  that  had  spoken 
to  him  in  the  field  of  the  armed  men,  "  this  is  not  that  dear 
sister  Europa  whom  you  have  sought  so  faithfully  all 
over  the  wide  world.  This  is  Harmonia,  a  daughter  of  the 
sky,  who  is  given  you  instead  of  sister,  and  brothers,  and 
mother.  You  will  find  all  those  dear  ones  in  her  alone." 

So  King  Cadmus  dwelt  in  the  palace,  with  his  new 
friend  Harmonia,  and  found  a  great  deal  of  comfort  in 
his  magnificent  abode,  but  would  doubtless  have  found 
as  much,  if  not  more,  in  the  humblest  cottage  by  the 
wayside.  Before  many  years  went  by,  there  was  a  group 
of  rosy  little  children  (but  how  they  came  thither  has 
always  been  a  mystery  to  me)  sporting  in  the  great  hall, 
and  on  the  marble  steps  of  the  palace,  and  running  joy 
fully  to  meet  King  Cadmus  when  affairs  of  state  left 
him  at  leisure  to  play  with  them.  They  called  him  father, 
and  Queen  Harmonia  mother.  The  five  old  soldiers  of 
the  dragon's  teeth  grew  very  fond  of  these  small  urchins, 


82 


Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 


and  were  never  weary  of  showing  them  how  to  shoulder 
sticks,  flourish  wooden  swords,  and  march  in  military 
order,  blowing  a  penny  trumpet,  or  beating  an  abominable 
rub-a-dub  upon  a  little  drum. 

But  King  Cadmus,  lest  there  should  be  too  much  of 
the  dragon's  tooth  in  his  children's  disposition,  used  to 
find  time  from  his  kingly  duties  to  teach  them  their 
A  B  C — which  he  invented  for  their  benefit,  and  for 
which  many  little  people,  I  am  afraid,  are  not  half  so 
grateful  to  him  as  they  ought  to  be. 


ORPHEUS  AND  EURYDICE 

BY  V.  C.  TURNBULL 

"Orpheus  with  his  lute  made  trees, 
And  the  mountain-tops  that  freeze, 

Bow  themselves  when  he  did  sing; 
To  his  music  plants  and  flowers 
Ever  sprung;  as  sun  and  showers 

There  had  made  a  lasting  spring. 

"  Everything  that  heard  him  play, 
Even  the  billows  of  the  sea, 

Hung  their  heads,  and  then  lay  by. 
In  sweet  music  is  such  art, 
Killing-care  and  grief-of-heart 
Fall  asleep,  or  hearing,  die." 

SHAKESPEARE. 

NEVER  was  musician  like  Orpheus,  who  sang  songs, 
inspired  by  the  Muses,  to  a  lyre  that  was  given  to 
him  by  Apollo.  So  mighty  indeed  was  the  magic  of  his 
music,  that  Nature  herself  owned  his  sway.  Not  only 
did  rocks  and  rills  repeat  his  lays,  but  the  very  trees  up 
rooted  themselves  to  follow  in  his  train,  and  the  savage 
beasts  of  the  forest  were  tamed  and  fawned  upon  him  as 
he  played  and  sang. 

But  of  all  who  hearkened  enchanted  to  those  matchless 
strains,  none  drew  deeper  delight  therefrom  than  the 
singer's  newly  wed  wife,  the  young  and  lovely  Eurydice. 
Hour  by  hour  she  sat  at  his  feet  hearkening  to  the  music 

83 


84  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

of  his  voice  and  lyre,  and  the  gods  themselves  might  have 
envied  the  happy  pair. 

And  surely  some  god  did  look  with  envious  eye  upon 
those  two.  For  an  an  evil  day,  Eurydice,  strolling  with 
her  maidens  through  a  flowery  meadow,  was  bitten  on 
her  foot  by  a  viper  and  perished  in  all  her  beauty  ere 
the  sun  went  down. 

Then  Orpheus,  terrible  in  his  anguish,  swore  that  death 
itself  should  not  forever  rob  him  of  his  love.  His  song, 
which  could  tame  wild  beasts  and  drag  the  ancient  trees 
from  their  roots,  should  quell  the  powers  of  hell  and 
snatch  back  Eurydice  from  their  grasp. 

Thus  he  swore,  calling  on  the  gods  to  help  him;  and 
taking  his  lyre  in  his  hand  he  set  forth  on  that  fearful 
pilgrimage  from  which  never  man — unless,  like  Hercules, 
he  was  a  hero,  half  man  and  half  god: — had  returned 
alive. 

And  now  he  reaches  the  downward  path,  the  end 
whereof  is  lost  in  gloom.  Deeper  and  deeper  he  de 
scended  till  the  light  of  day  was  quite  shut  out,  and  with 
it  all  the  sounds  of  the  pleasant  earth.  Downward 
through  the  silence  as  of  the  grave,  downward  through 
darkness  deeper  than  that  of  any  earthly  night.  Then 
out  of  the  darkness,  faint  at  first,  but  louder  as  he  went 
on,  came  sounds  that  chilled  his  blood — shrieks  and 
groans  of  more  than  mortal  anguish,  and  the  terrible 
voices  of  the  Furies,  speaking  words  that  cannot  be 
uttered  in  any  human  tongue. 

When  Orpheus  heard  these  things  his  knees  shook  and 
his  feet  paused  as  if  rooted  to  the  ground.  But  remem 
bering  once  more  his  love  and  all  his  grief,  he  struck  his 
lyre  and  sang,  till  his  dirge,  reverberating  like  a  coronach 
or  funeral  march,  drowned  all  the  sounds  of  hell.  And 


Orpheus  and  Eurydice  85 

Charon,  the  old  ferryman,  subdued  by  the  melody,  ferried 
him  over  the  ninefold  Styx  which  none  save  the  dead 
might  cross;  and  when  Orpheus  reached  the  other  side 
great  companies  of  pale  ghosts  flocked  round  him  on 
that  drear  shore;  for  the  singer  was  no  shadowy  ghost 
like  themselves,  but  a  mortal,  beautiful  though  woebe 
gone,  and  his  song  spoke  to  them  as  with  a  thousand 
voices  of  the  sunlight  and  the  familiar  earth,  and  of  those 
who  were  left  behind  in  their  well-loved  homes. 

But  Orpheus,  not  finding  Eurydice  among  these,  made 
no  tarrying.  Onward  he  passed,  over  the  flaming  flood 
of  Phlegethon,  through  the  cloud-hung  and  adamantine 
portals  of  Tartarus.  Here  Pluto,  lord  of  the  under 
world,  sits  enthroned,  and  round  him  sinners  do  penance 
for  the  evil  that  they  wrought  upon  earth.  There  Ixion, 
murderer  of  his  father-in-law,  is  racked  upon  the  ever- 
turning  wheel,  and  Tantalus,  who  slew  his  son,  endures 
eternal  hunger  in  sight  of  food  and  eternal  fear  from  the 
stone  ever  ready  to  fall.  There  the  daughters  of  Danaiis 
cease  not  to  pour  water  into  bottomless  urns.  There 
Sisyphus,  who  broke  faith  with  the  gods  when  they  per 
mitted  him  to  return  a  little  while  to  the  upper  world, 
evermore  rolls  up  a  steep  hill  a  great  stone  that,  falling 
back  from  the  summit,  crushes  the  wretch  in  its  down 
ward  rush. 

But  now  a  great  marvel  was  seen  in  hell.  For  as  Or 
pheus  entered  singing,  his  melodies,  the  first  that  had 
ever  sounded  in  that  dread  abode,  caused  all  its  terrors 
for  a  moment  to  cease.  Tantalus  caught  no  more  at  the 
fruits  that  slipped  through  his  fingers,  Ixion's  wheel 
ceased  to  turn,  the  daughters  of  Danaiis  paused  at  their 
urns,  and  Sisyphus  rested  on  his  rock.  Nay,  the  very 
Furies  themselves  ceased  to  scourge  their  victims,  and 


86  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

the  snakes  that  mingled  with  their  locks  hung  down,  for 
getting  to  hiss. 

So  came  Orpheus  to  the  throne  of  great  Pluto,  by 
whose  .side  sat  Proserpine,  his  Queen.  And  the  king  of 
the  infernal  gods  asked :  "  What  wouldst  thou,  mortal, 
who  darest  to  enter  unbidden  this  our  realm  of  death  ?  " 

Orpheus  answered,  touching  his  lyre  the  while :  "  Not 
as  a  spy  or  a  foe  have  I  come  where  no  living  wight 
hath  ventured  before,  but  I  seek  my  wife,  slain  untimely 
by  the  fangs  of  a  serpent.  Such  love  as  mine  for  a 
maiden  such  as  she  must  melt  the  stoniest  heart.  Thy 
heart  is  not  all  of  stone,  and  thou  too  didst  once  love 
an  earthly  maiden.  By  these  places  filled  with  horrors, 
and  by  the  silence  of  these  boundless  realms,  I  entreat 
thee  restore  Eurydice  to' life." 

He  paused,  and  all  Tartarus  waited  with  him  for  a 
reply.  The  terrible  eyes  of  Pluto  were  cast  down,  and 
to  Proserpine  came  a  memory  of  the  far-off  days  when 
she  too  was  a  maid  upon  earth  sporting  in  the  flowery 
meads  of  Enna.  Then  Orpheus  struck  again  his  magic 
strings  and  sang :  "  To  thee  we  all  belong ;  to  thee  soon 
or  late  we  all  must  come.  It  is  but  for  a  little  space  that 
I  crave  my  Eurydice.  Nay,  without  her  I  will  not  re 
turn.  Grant,  therefore,  my  prayer,  O  Pluto,  or  slay  me 
here  and  now." 

Then  Pluto  raised  his  head  and  spoke :  "  Bring  hither 
Eurydice." 

And  Eurydice,  still  pale  and  limping  from  her  mortal 
wound,  was  brought  from  among  the  shades  of  the 
newly  dead. 

And  Pluto  said :  "  Take  back,  Orpheus,  thy  wife  Eu 
rydice,  and  lead  her  to  the  upper  world  again.  But  go 
thou  before  and  leave  her  to  follow  after.  Look  not  once 


Orpheus  and  Eurydice  87 

back  till  thou  hast  passed  my  borders  and  canst  see  the 
sun,  for  in  the  moment  when  thou  turnest  thy  head,  thy 
wife  is  lost  to  thee  again  and  forever." 

Then  with  great  joy  Orpheus  turned  and  led  Eurydice 
from  thence.  They  left  behind  the  tortured  dead  and  the 
gibbering  ghosts;  they  crossed  the  flaming  Phlegethon, 
and  Charon  rowed  them  once  more  over  the  ninefold 
Styx ;  and  up  the  dark  path  they  went,  the  cries  of  Tar 
tarus  sounding  ever  fainter  in  their  ears;  and  anon  the 
light  of  the  sun  shone  faint,  and  far  where  the  path  re 
turned  to  earth,  and  as  they  pressed  forward  the  song 
of  the  little  birds  made  answer  to  the  lyre  of  Orpheus. 

But  the  cup  of  happiness  was  dashed  from  the  lips  that 
touched  its  brim.  For  even  as  they  stood  upon  the  utter 
most  verge  of  the  dark  place,  the  light  of  the  sun  just 
dawning  upon  their  faces  and  their  feet  within  a  pace  of 
earthly  soil,  Eurydice  stumbled  and  cried  out  in  pain. 

Without  a  thought  Orpheus  turned  to  see  what  ailed 
her,  and  in  that  moment  was  she  caught  from  him.  Far 
down  the  path  he  saw  her,  a  ghost  once  more,  fading 
from  his  sight  like  smoke  as  her  faint  form  was  lost  in 
the  gloom ;  only  for  a  moment  could  he  see  her  white  arms 
stretched  towards  him  in  vain;  only  once  could  he  hear 
her  last  heart-broken  farewell. 

Down  the  path  rushed  Orpheus,  clamoring  for  his 
Eurydice  lost  a  second  time;  but  vain  was  all  his  grief, 
for  not  again  would  Charon  row  him  across  the  Styx. 
So  the  singer  returned  to  earth,  his  heart  broken,  and 
all  joy  gone  from  his  life.  Thenceforth  his  one  consola 
tion  was  to  sit  upon  Mount  Rhodope  singing  his  love 
and  his  loss.  And  the  Thracian  women,  worshipers  of 
Bacchus,  kindling  at  his  strains,  called  to  him  to  join  in 
their  wild  rites.  But  when  he  turned  from  them  with 


88  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 


loathing,  they  fell  upon  him,  tearing  him  limb  from  limb. 
And  his  head  they  cast  into  the  river  Hebrus,  whose 
banks  bore  to  the  yEgean  Sea  that  long-drawn  wail: 
"  Eurydice,  Eurydice !  "  And  still  as  we  hear  the  music 
of  that  sweet  name  we  think  of  "  infinite  passion,  and  the 
pain  of  finite  hearts  that  yearn." 

But  the  gods,  first  punishing  the  Thracian  women  by 
turning  them  into  trees,  took  the  lyre  of  Orpheus  and  set 
it  among  the  stars.  And  Orpheus  himself,  once  more 
entering  by  the  gate  of  death  the  regions  of  the  dead, 
seeks  and  finds  his  beloved  Eurydice.  Now  may  they 
walk  side  by  side,  now  Orpheus,  if  he  goes  before,  may 
look  back  in  safety  upon  the  face  of  his  loved  one.  For 
the  sorrows  of  life  are  over  and  the  pangs  of  death  are 
past,  and  no  shadow  of  parting  can  come  between  the 
singer  and  his  love  in  the  Elysium  of  the  Blessed. 


HERCULES  AND  THE  GOLDEN  APPLES 

PART  I.    HERCULES  AND  THE  OLD  MAN 
OF  THE  SEA 

BY  NATHANIEL  HAWTHORNE 

DID  you  ever  hear  of  the  golden  apples  that  grew 
in  the  garden  of  the  Hesperides?  Ah,  those  were 
such  apples  as  would  bring  a  great  price  by  the  bushel,  if 
any  of  them  could  be  found  growing  in  the  orchards  of 
nowadays!  But  there  is  not,  I  suppose,  a  graft  of  that 
wonderful  fruit  on  a  single  tree  in  the  wide  world.  Not 
so  much  as  a  seed  of  those  apples  exists  any  longer. 

And  even  in  the  old,  old,  half-forgotten  times,  before 
the  garden  of  the  Hesperides  was  overrun  with  weeds, 
many  doubted  whether  there  could  be  real  trees  that  bore 
apples  of  solid  gold  upon  their  branches.  All  had  heard 
of  them,  but  nobody  remembered  to  have  seen  any. 
Children,  nevertheless,  used  to  listen,  open-mouthed,  to 
stories  of  the  golden  apple  tree,  and  resolved  to  discover 
it  when  they  should  be  big  enough.  Adventurous  young 
men,  who  desired  to  do  a  braver  thing  than  any  of  their 
fellows,  set  out  in  quest  of  this  fruit.  Many  of  them 
returned  no  more ;  none  of  them  brought  back  the  apples. 
No  wonder  that  they  found  it  impossible  to  gather  them ! 
It  is  said  that  there  was  a  dragon  beneath  the  tree,  with 
a  hundred  terrible  heads,  fifty  of  which  were  always  on 
the  watch  while  the  other  fifty  slept. 

89 


90  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

But  it  was  quite  a  common  thing  with  youths,  when 
tired  of  too  much  peace  and  rest,  to  go  in  search  of  the 
garden  of  the  Hesperides.  And  once  the  adventure  was 
undertaken  by  a  hero  who  had  enjoyed  very  little  peace 
or  rest  since  he  came  into  the  world.  At  the  time  of 
which  I  am  going  to  speak,  he  was  wandering  through 
the  pleasant  land  of  Italy,  with  a  mighty  club  in  his  hand 
and  a  bow  and  quiver  slung  across  his  shoulders.  He 
was  wrapped  in  the  skin  of  the  biggest  and  fiercest  lion 
that  ever  had  been  seen,  and  which  he  himself  had  killed ; 
and  though,  on  the  whole,  he  was  kind  and  generous  and 
noble,  there  was  a  good  deal  of  the  lion's  fierceness  in  his 
heart.  As  he  went  on  his  way,  he  continually  inquired 
whether  that  were  the  right  road  to  the  famous  garden. 
But  none  of  the  country  people  knew  anything  about  the 
matter,  and  many  looked  as  if  they  would  have  laughed 
at  the  question,  if  the  stranger  had  not  carried  so  big 
a  club. 

So  he  journeyed  on,  still  making  the  same  inquiry,  un 
til  at  last  he  came  to  the  brink  of  a  river,  where  some 
beautiful  girls  sat  twining  wreaths  of  flowers. 

"  Can  you  tell  me,  pretty  maidens,"  asked  the  stranger, 
"whether  this  is  the  right  way  to  the  garden  of  the 
Hesperides  ?  " 

The  girls  had  been  having  a  fine  time  together,  weaving 
the  flowers  into  wreaths,  and  crowning  one  another's 
heads.  But,  on  hearing  the  stranger's  question,  they 
dropped  all  their  flowers  on  the  grass  and  gazed  at  him 
with  astonishment. 

"  The  garden  of  the  Hesperides !  "  cried  one.  "  We 
thought  mortals  had  been  weary  of  seeking  it,  after  so 
many  disappointments.  And  pray,  bold  stranger,  what 
do  you  want  there  ?  " 


Hercules  and  the  Golden  Apples  91 

"  A  certain  king,  who  is  my  cousin,"  replied  he,  "  has 
ordered  me  to  get  him  three  of  the  golden  apples." 

"  Most  of  the  young  men  who  go  in  quest  of  these 
apples,"  observed  another  of  the  damsels,  "  desire  to 
obtain  them  for  themselves,  or  to  present  to  some  fair 
maiden  whom  they  love.  Do  you,  then,  love  this  king, 
your  cousin,  so  very  much  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  not,"  replied  the  stranger,  sighing.  "  He  has 
often  been  severe  and  cruel  to  me.  But  it  is  my  destiny 
to  obey  him." 

"And  do  you  know,"  asked  the  damsel  who  had  first 
spoken,  "  that  a  terrible  dragon,  with  a  hundred  heads, 
keeps  watch  under  the  golden  apple  tree  ?  " 

"  I  know  it  well,"  answered  the  stranger  calmly. 
"  But  from  my  cradle  upwards,  it  has  been  my  business, 
and  almost  my  pastime,  to  deal  with  serpents  and 
dragons." 

The  maidens  looked  at  his  massive  club,  and  at  the 
shaggy  lion's  skin  which  he  wore,  and  likewise  at  his 
heroic  limbs  and  figure ;  and  they  whispered  to  each  other 
that  the  stranger  appeared  to  be  one  who  might  reason 
ably  expect  to  perform  deeds  far  beyond  the  might  of 
other  men.  But  then,  the  dragon  with  a  hundred  heads ! 
What  mortal,  even  if  he  possessed  a  hundred  lives,  could 
hope  to  escape  the  fangs  of  such  a  monster?  So  kind- 
hearted  were  the  maidens,  that  they  could  not  bear  to  see 
this  brave  and  handsome  traveler  attempt  what  was  so 
'very  dangerous,  and  devote  himself,  most  probably,  to 
become  a  meal  for  the  dragon's  hundred  ravenous  mouths. 

"  Go  back,"  cried  they  all ;  "  go  back  to  your  own 
home !  Your  mother,  beholding  you  safe  and  sound,  will 
shed  tears  of  joy ;  and  what  can  she  do  more,  should  you 
win  ever  so  great  a  victory?  No  matter  for  the  golden 


92  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

apples !  No  matter  for  the  king,  your  cruel  cousin !  We 
do  not  wish  the  dragon  with  the  hundred  heads  to  eat  you 
up!" 

The  stranger  seemed  to  grow  impatient  at  these  re 
monstrances.  He  carelessly  lifted  his  mighty  club,  and 
let  it  fall  upon  a  rock  that  lay  half  buried  in  the  earth 
near  by.  With  the  force  of  that  idle  blow,  the  great  rock 
was  shattered  all  to  pieces.  It  cost  the  stranger  no  more 
effort  to  achieve  this  feat  of  strength  than  for  one  of  the 
young  maidens  to  touch  her  sister's  rosy  cheek  with  a 
flower. 

"  Do  you  not  believe,"  said  he,  looking  at  the  damsels 
with  a  smile,  "  that  such  a  blow  would  have  crushed  one 
of  the  dragon's  hundred  heads  ?  " 

Then  he  sat  down  on  the  grass  and  told  them  the  story 
of  his  life,  or  as  much  of  it  as  he  could  remember,  from 
the  day  when  he  was  first  cradled  in  a  warrior's  brazen 
shield. 

When  the  stranger  had  finished  the  story  of  his  ad 
ventures,  he  looked  around  at  the  attentive  faces  of  the 
maidens. 

"  Perhaps  you  may  have  heard  of  me  before,"  said  he, 
modestly.  "  My  name  is  Hercules." 

"  We  had  already  guessed  it,"  replied  the  maidens ; 
"  for  your  wonderful  deeds  are  known  all  over  the  world. 
We  do  not  think  it  strange  any  longer  that  you  should 
set  out  in  quest  of  the  golden  apples  of  the  Hesperides. 
Come,  sisters,  let  us  crown  the  hero  with  flowers ! " 

Then  they  flung  beautiful  wreaths  over  his  stately  head 
and  mighty  shoulders,  so  that  the  lion's  skin  was  almost 
entirely  covered  with  roses.  They  took  possession  of  his 
ponderous  club,  and  so  entwined  it  about  with  the 
brightest,  softest,  and  most  fragrant  blossoms  that  not 


Hercules  and  the  Golden  Apples  93 

a  finger's  breadth  of  its  oaken  substance  could  be  seen. 
It  looked  all  like  a  huge  bunch  of  flowers.  Lastly,  they 
joined  hands,  and  danced  around  him,  chanting  words 
which  became  poetry  of  their  own  accord,  and  grew 
into  a  choral  song  in  honor  of  the  illustrious  Hercules. 

And  Hercules  was  rejoiced,  as  any  other  hero  would 
have  been,  to  know  that  these  fair  young  girls  had  heard 
of  the  valiant  deeds  which  it  had  cost  him  so  much  toil 
and  danger  to  achieve.  But  still  he  was  not  satisfied.  He 
could  not  think  that  what  he  had  already  done  was  worthy 
of  so  much  honor,  while  there  remained  any  bold  ad 
venture  to  be  undertaken. 

"  Dear  maidens,"  said  he,  when  they  paused  to  take 
breath,  "  now  that  you  know  my  name,  will  you  not  tell 
me  how  I  am  to  reach  the  garden  of  the  Hesperides  ?  " 

"  Ah !  must  you  go  so  soon  ?  "  they  exclaimed.  "  You 
that  have  performed  so  many  wonders,  and  spent  such  a 
toilsome  life — cannot  you  content  yourself  to  repose  a 
little  while  on  the  margin  of  this  peaceful  river?" 

Hercules  shook  his  head. 

"  I  must  depart  now,"  said  he. 

"  We  will  then  give  you  the  best  directions  we  can," 
replied  the  damsels.  "  You  must  go  to  the  sea-shore,  and 
find  out  the  Old  One,  and  compel  him  to  inform  you 
where  the  golden  apples  are  to  be  found." 

"  The  Old  One !  "  repeated  Hercules,  laughing  at  this 
odd  name.  "  And  pray  who  may  the  Old  One  be  ?  " 

"  Why,  the  Old  Man  of  the  Sea,  to  be  sure !  "  answered 
one  of  the  damsels.  "  He  has  fifty  daughters,  whom  some 
people  call  very  beautiful ;  but  we  do  not  think  it  proper 
to  be  acquainted  with  them,  because  they  have  sea-green 
hair,  and  taper  away  like  fishes.  You  must  talk  to  this 
Old  Man  of  the  Sea.  He  is  a  seafaring  person,  and 


94  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

knows  all  about  the  garden  of  the  Hesperides,  for  it  is 
situated  in  an  island  which  he  is  often  in  the  habit  of 
visiting." 

Hercules  then  asked  whereabouts  the  Old  One  was 
most  likely  to  be  met  with.  When  the  damsels  had  in 
formed  him,  he  thanked  them  for  all  their  kindness; 
most  of  all  for  telling  him  the  right  way;  and  immedi 
ately  set  forth  upon  his  journey. 

But,  before  he  was  out  of  hearing,  one  of  the  maidens 
called  after  him. 

"  Keep  fast  hold  of  the  Old  One  when  you  catch 
him !  "  cried  she,  smiling,  and  lifting  her  finger  to  make 
the  caution  more  impressive.  "  Do  not  be  astonished  at 
anything  that  may  happen.  Only  hold  him  fast,  and  he 
will  tell  you  what  you  wish  to  know." 

Hercules  again  thanked  her,  and  pursued  his  way, 
while  the  maidens  resumed  their  pleasant  labor  of  making 
flower-wreaths.  They  talked  about  the  hero  long  after 
he  was  gone. 

"  We  will  crown  him  with  the  loveliest  of  our  gar 
lands,"  said  they,  "  when  he  returns  hither  with  the  three 
golden  apples,  after  slaying  the  dragon  with  a  hundred 
heads." 

Meanwhile  Hercules  traveled  constantly  onward,  over 
hill  and  dale,  and  through  the  solitary  woods. 

Hastening  forward,  without  ever  pausing  or  looking 
behind,  he  by  and  by  heard  the  sea  roaring  at  a  distance. 
At  this  sound  he  increased  his  speed,  and  soon  came  to  a 
beach,  where  the  great  surf-waves  tumbled  themselves 
upon  the  hard  sand,  in  a  long  line  of  snowy  foam.  At  one 
end  of  the  beach,  however,  there  was  a  pleasant  spot, 
where  some  green  shrubbery  clambered  up  a  cliff,  making 
its  rocky  face  look  soft  and  beautiful.  A  carpet  of 


Hercules  and  the  Golden  Apples  95 

verdant  grass,  largely  intermixed  with  sweet-smelling 
clover,  covered  the  narrow  space  between  the  bottom  of 
the  cliff  and  the  sea.  And  what  should  Hercules  espy 
there  but  an  old  man,  fast  asleep! 

But  was  it  really  and  truly  an  old  man?  Certainly,  at 
first  sight,  it  looked  very  like  one;  but  on  closer  inspec 
tion  it  rather  seemed  to  be  some  kind  of  a  creature  that 
lived  in  the  sea.  For  on  his  legs  and  arms  there  were 
scales  such  as  fishes  have;  he  was  web-footed  and  web- 
fingered,  after  the  fashion  of  a  duck;  and  his  long 
beard,  being  of  a  greenish  tinge,  had  more  the  appear 
ance  of  a  tuft  of  seaweed  than  of  an  ordinary  beard. 
Have  you  never  seen  a  stick  of  timber  that  has  long 
been  tossed  about  by  the  waves,  and  has  got  all  over 
grown  with  barnacles,  and  at  last,  drifting  ashore,  seems 
to  have  been  thrown  up  from  the  very  deepest  bottom  of 
the  sea?  Well,  the  old  man  would  have  put  you  in  mind 
of  just  such  a  wave-tossed  spar!  But  Hercules,  the 
instant  he  set  his  eyes  on  this  strange  figure,  was  con 
vinced  that  it  could  be  no  other  than  the  Old  One,  who 
was  to  direct  him  on  his  way.  • 

Yes;  it  was  the  self-same  Old  Man  of  the  Sea  whom 
the  hospitable  maidens  had  talked  to  him  about.  Thank 
ing  his  stars  for  the  lucky  accident  of  finding  the  old 
fellow  asleep,  Hercules  stole  on  tiptoe  towards  him  and 
caught  him  by  the  arm  and  leg. 

"  Tell  me,"  cried  he,  before  the  Old  One  was  well 
awake,  "  which  is  the  way  to  the  garden  of  the  Hes- 
perides?" 

As  you  may  imagine,  the  Old  Man  of  the  Sea  awoke 
in  a  fright.  But  his  astonishment  could  hardly  have  been 
greater  than  was  that  of  Hercules  the  next  moment.  For, 
all  of  a  sudden,  the  Old  One  seemed  to  disappear  out  of 


96  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

his  grasp,  and  he  found  himself  holding  a  stag  by  the 
fore  and  hind  leg!  But  still  he  kept  fast  hold.  Then 
the  stag  disappeared,  and  in  its  stead  there  was  a  sea- 
bird,  fluttering  and  screaming,  while  Hercules  clutched  it 
by  the  wing  and  claw !  But  the  bird  could  not  get  away. 
Immediately  afterwards,  there  was  an  ugly  three-headed 
dog,  which  growled  and  barked  at  Hercules,  and  snapped 
fiercely  at  the  hands  by  which  he  held  him !  But  Hercules 
would  not  let  him  go.  In  another  minute,  instead  of  the 
three-headed  dog,  what  should  appear  but  Geryon,  the 
six-legged  man-monster,  kicking  at  Hercules  with  five 
of  his  legs  in  order  to  get  the  remaining  one  at  liberty ! 
But  Hercules  held  on.  By  and  by  no  Geryon  was  there, 
but  a  huge  snake,  like  one  of  those  which  Hercules  had 
strangled  in  his  babyhood,  only  a  hundred  times  as  big; 
and  it  twisted  and  twined  about  the  hero's  neck  and 
body,  and  threw  its  tail  high  in  the  air,  and  opened  its 
deadly  jaws  as  if  to  devour  him  outright;  but  Hercules 
was  no  whit  disheartened,  and  squeezed  the  great  snake 
so  tightly  that  he  soon  began  to  hiss  with  pain. 

But,  as  Hercules  held  on  so  stubbornly  and  only 
squeezed  the  Old  One  so  much  the  tighter  at  every 
change  of  shape,  and  really  put  him  to  no  small  torture,  he 
finally  thought  it  best  to  reappear  in  his  own  figure.  So 
there  he  was  again,  a  fishy,  scaly,  web-footed  sort  of 
personage,  with  something  like  a  tuft  of  seaweed  at  his 
chin. 

"  Pray,  what  do  you  want  with  me  ?  "  cried  the  Old 
One,  as  soon  as  he  could  take  his  breath ;  for  it  was  quite  a 
tiresome  affair  to  go  through  so  many  false  shapes. 
"  Why  do  you  squeeze  me  so  hard  ?  Let  me  go  this 
moment,  or  I  shall  begin  to  consider  you  an  extremely 
uncivil  person !  " 


Hercules  and  the  Golden  Apples  97 

"  My  name  is  Hercules !  "  roared  the  mighty  stranger. 
"  And  you  will  never  get  out  of  my  clutch  until  you  tell 
me  the  nearest  way  to  the  garden  of  the  Hesperides ! " 

When  the  old  fellow  heard  who  it  was  that  had  caught 
him,  he  saw  with  half  an  eye  that  it  would  be  necessary 
to  tell  him  everything  that  he  wanted  to  know.  He  had 
often  heard  of  the  fame  of  Hercules,  and  of  the  wonder 
ful  things  that  he  was  constantly  performing  in  various 
parts  of  the  earth,  and  how  determined  he  always  was  to 
accomplish  whatever  he  undertook.  He  therefore  made 
no  more  attempts  to  escape,  but  told  the  hero  how  to  find 
the  garden  of  the  Hesperides,  and  likewise  warned  him 
of  many  difficulties  which  must  be  overcome  before  he 
could  arrive  thither. 

"  You  must  go  on,  thus  and  thus,"  said  the  Old  Man 
of  the  Sea,  after  taking  the  points  of  the  compass,  "  till 
you  come  in  sight  of  a  very  tall  giant,  who  holds  the 
sky  on  his  shoulders.  And  the  giant,  if  he  happens  to 
be  in  the  humor,  will  tell  you  exactly  where  the  garden 
of  the  Hesperides  lies." 

"And  if  the  giant  happens  not  to  be  in  the  humor," 
remarked  Hercules,  balancing  his  club  on  the  tip  of  his 
finger,  "  perhaps  I  shall  find  means  to  persuade  him ! " 


HERCULES  AND  THE  GOLDEN  APPLES 

PART  II.    HERCULES  AND  ATLAS 

BY  NATHANIEL  HAWTHORNE 

THANKING  the  Old  man  of  the  Sea,  and  begging 
his  pardon  for  having  squeezed  him  so  roughly, 
the  hero  resumed  his  journey. 

Nothing  was  before  him  save  the  foaming,  dashing, 
measureless  ocean.  But  suddenly,  as  he  looked  towards 
the  horizon,  he  saw  something,  a  great  way  off,  which  he 
had  not  seen  the  moment  before.  It  gleamed  very 
brightly,  almost  as  you  may  have  beheld  the  round, 
golden  disk  of  the  sun  when  it  rises  or  sets  over  the  edge 
of  the  world.  It  evidently  drew  nearer;  for  at  every 
instant  this  wonderful  object  became  larger  and  more 
lustrous.  At  length  it  had  come  so  nigh  that  Hercules 
discovered  it  to  be  an  immense  cup  or  bowl,  made  either 
of  gold  or  burnished  brass.  How  it  had  got  afloat  upon 
the  sea  is  more  than  I  can  tell  you.  There  it  was,  at  all 
events,  rolling  on  the  tumultuous  billows,  which  tossed  it 
up  and  down  and  heaved  their  foamy  tops  against  its 
sides,  but  without  ever  throwing  their  spray  over  the 
brim. 

"  I  have  seen  many  giants  in  my  time,"  thought  Her 
cules,  "  but  never  one  that  would  need  to  drink  his  wine 
out  of  a  cup  like  this !  " 

And,  true  enough,  what  a  cup  it  must  have  been!  It 
was  as  large — as  large — but,  in  short,  I  am  afraid  to  say 

98 


Hercules  and  the  Golden  Apples  99 

how  immeasurably  large  it  was.  To  speak  within  bounds, 
it  was  ten  times  larger  than  a  great  mill-wheel;  and,  all 
of  metal  as  it  was,  it  floated  over  the  heaving  surges 
more  lightly  than  an  acorn-cup  adown  the  brook.  The 
waves  tumbled  it  onward  until  it  grazed  against  the 
shore  within  a  short  distance  of  the  spot  where  Hercules 
was  standing. 

As  soon  as  this  happened,  he  knew  what  was  to  be 
done;  for  he  had  not  gone  through  so  many  remarkable 
adventures  without  learning  pretty  well  how  to  conduct 
himself  whenever  anything  came  to  pass  a  little  out  of 
the  common  rule.  It  was  just  as  clear  as  daylight  that 
this  marvelous  cup  had  been  set  adrift  by  some  unseen 
power,  and  guided  hitherward,  in  order  to  carry  Hercules 
across  the  sea  on  his  way  to  the  garden  of  the  Hesperides. 
Accordingly,  without  a  moment's  delay,  he  clambered 
over  the  brim  and  slid  down  on  the  inside,  where,  spread 
ing  out  his  lion's  skin,  he  proceeded  to  take  a  little 
repose.  He  had  scarcely  rested  until  now,  since  he  bade 
farewell  to  the  damsels  on  the  margin  of  the  river. 
The  waves  dashed  there  with  a  pleasant  and  ringing 
sound  against  the  sides  of  the  hollow  cup;  it  rocked 
lightly  to  and  fro,  and  the  motion  was  so  soothing 
that  it  speedily  rocked  Hercules  into  an  agreeable 
slumber. 

His  nap  had  probably  lasted  a  good  while,  when  the 
cup  chanced  to  graze  against  a  rock,  and  resounded  and 
reverberated  through  its  metal  substance  a  hundred  times 
as  loudly  as  ever  you  heard  a  church-bell.  The  noise 
awoke  Hercules,  who  instantly  started  up  and  gazed 
around  him,  wondering  whereabouts  he  was.  He  was  not 
long  in  discovering  that  the  cup  had  floated  across  a 
great  part  of  the  sea,  and  was  approaching  the  shore  of 


ioo  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

what  seemed  to  be  an  island.  And  on  that  island,  what  do 
you  think  he  saw  ?  It  was  a  giant ! 

But  such  an  intolerably  big  giant !  A  giant  as  tall  as  a 
mountain ;  so  vast  a  giant,  that  the  clouds  rested  about  his 
midst  like  a  girdle,  and  hung  like  a  hoary  beard  from 
his  chin,  and  flitted  before  his  huge  eyes,  so  that  he 
could  neither  see  Hercules  nor  the  golden  cup  in  which 
he  was  voyaging.  And,  most  wonderful  of  all,  the  giant 
held  up  his  great  hands  and  appeared  to  support  the  sky, 
which,  so  far  as  Hercules  could  discern  through  the 
clouds,  was  resting  upon  his  head ! 

Meanwhile  the  bright  cup  continued  to  float  onward, 
and  finally  touched  the  strand.  Just  then  a  breeze  wafted 
away  the  clouds  from  before  the  giant's  visage,  and  Her 
cules  beheld  it,  with  all  its  enormous  features :  eyes,  each 
of  them  as  big  as  yonder  lake,  a  nose  a  mile  long,  and  a 
mouth  of  the  same  width. 

Poor  fellow!  He  had  evidently  stood  there  a  long 
while.  An  ancient  forest  had  been  growing  and  decaying 
round  his  feet;  and  oak  trees,  of  six  or  seven  centuries 
old,  had  sprung  from  the  acorn,  and  forced  themselves 
between  his  toes. 

The  giant  now  looked  down  from  the  far  height  of  his 
great  eyes,  and  perceiving  Hercules,  roared  out  in  a 
voice  that  resembled  thunder  proceeding  out  of  the  cloud 
that  had  just  flitted  away  from  his  face : 

"  Who  are  you  down  at  my  feet  there  ?  And  whence 
do  you  come  in  that  little  cup  ?  " 

"  I  am  Hercules ! "  thundered  back  the  hero,  in  a 
voice  pretty  nearly  or  quite  as  loud  as  the  giant's  own. 
"  And  I  am  seeking  the  garden  of  the  Hesperides !  " 

"  Ho !  ho !  ho !  "  roared  the  giant,  in  a  fit  of  immense 
laughter.  "  That  is  a  wise  adventure,  truly !  " 


Hercules  and  the  Golden  Apples  101 

"  And  why  not  ?  "  cried  Hercules,  getting  a  little  angry 
at  the  giant's  mirth.  "  Do  you  think  I  am  afraid  of  the 
dragon  with  a  hundred  heads !  " 

Just  at  this  time,  while  they  were  talking  together, 
some  black  clouds  gathered  about  the  giant's  middle  and 
burst  into  a  tremendous  storm' of  ilitnder  and 4fcgJitnirrgV 
causing  such  a  pother  that  Hercules  found  it  impossible 
to  distinguish  a  word.  Only  the  giant's  immeasurable 
legs  were  to  be  seen,  standing  up  into  the  obscurity  of 
the  tempest;  and  now  and  then  a  momentary  glimpse  of 
his  whole  figure  mantled  in  a  volume  of  mist.  He  seemed 
to  be  speaking  most  of  the  time ;  but  his  big,  deep,  rough 
voice  chimed  in  with  the  reverberations  of  the  thunder 
claps,  and  rolled  away  over  the  hills,  like  them. 

At  last  the  storm  swept  over  as  suddenly  as  it  had 
come.  And  there  again  was  the  clear  sky,  and  the  weary 
giant  holding  it  up,  and  the  pleasant  sunshine  beaming 
over  his  vast  height,  and  illuminating  it  against  the 
background  of  the  sullen  thunder-clouds.  So  far  above 
the  shower  had  been  his  head,  that  not  a  hair  of  it  was 
moistened  by  the  raindrops ! 

When  the  giant  could  see  Hercules  still  standing  on  the 
sea-shore,  he  roared  out  to  him  anew. 

"  I  am  Atlas,  the  mightiest  giant  in  the  world !  And 
I  hold  up  the  sky  upon  my  head !  " 

"  So  I  see,"  answered  Hercules.  "  But  can  you  show 
me  the  way  to  the  garden  of  the  Hesperides  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  want  there  ?  "  asked  the  giant. 

"  I  want  three  of  the  golden  apples,"  shouted  Hercules, 
"  for  my  cousin,  the  king." 

"  There  is  nobody  but  myself,"  quoth  the  giant,  "  that 
can  go  to  the  garden  of  the  Hesperides  and  gather  the 
golden  apples.  If  it  were  not  for  this  little  business  of 


102  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

holding  up  the  sky,  I  would  make  half  a  dozen  steps 
across  the  sea  and  get  them  for  you." 

"  You  are  very  kind,"  replied  Hercules.  "  And  cannot 
you  rest  the  'sj$y,uppn  a  mountain?" 

/\None  of  them  are  quite  high  enough,"  said  Atlas, 
shaking  h;s  bead,  "But  if  you  were  to  take  your  stand 
on  the  summit  of  that  nearest  me,  your  head  would  be 
pretty  nearly  on  a  level  with  mine.  You  seem  to  be  a 
fellow  of  some  strength.  What  if  you  should  take  my 
burden  on  your  shoulders  while  I  do  your  errand  for 
you?" 

Hercules,  as  you  must  be  careful  to  remember,  was  a 
remarkably  strong  man ;  and  though  it  certainly  requires 
a  great  deal  of  muscular  power  to  uphold  the  sky,  yet,  if 
any  mortal  could  be  supposed  capable  of  such  an  exploit, 
he  was  the  one.  Nevertheless,  it  seemed  so  difficult  an 
undertaking  that,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  he  hesi 
tated. 

"  Is  the  sky  very  heavy  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  Why,  not  particularly  so,  at  first,"  answered  the  giant, 
shrugging  his  shoulders.  "  But  it  gets  to  be  a  little 
burthensome  after  a  thousand  years !  " 

"  And  how  long  a  time,"  asked  the  hero,  "  will  it  take 
you  to  get  the  golden  apples  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that  will  be  done  in  a  few  moments,"  cried 
Atlas.  "  I  shall  take  ten  or  fifteen  miles  at  a  stride,  and 
be  at  the  garden  and  back  again  before  your  shoulders 
begin  to  ache." 

"  Well,  then,"  answered  Hercules,  "  I  will  climb  the 
mountain  behind  you  there  and  relieve  you  of  your 
burden." 

The  truth  is,  Hercules  had  a  kind  heart  of  his  own, 
and  considered  that  he  should  be  doing  the  giant  a  favor 


Hercules  and  the  Golden  Apples          103 

by  allowing  him  this  opportunity  for  a  ramble.  And 
besides,  he  thought  that  it  would  be  still  more  for  his 
own  glory,  if  he  could  boast  of  upholding  the  sky,  than 
merely  to  do  so  ordinary  a  thing  as  to  conquer  a  dragon 
with  a  hundred  heads.  Accordingly,  without  more  words, 
the  sky  was  shifted  from  the  shoulders  of  Atlas  and 
placed  upon  those  of  Hercules. 

When  this  was  safely  accomplished,  the  first  thing  that 
the  giant  did  was  to  stretch  himself;  and  you  may  imagine 
what  a  prodigious  spectacle  he  was  then.  Next,  he 
slowly  lifted  one  of  his  feet  out  of  the  forest  that  had 
grown  up  around  it;  then  the  other.  Then,  all  at  once 
he  began  to  caper,  and  leap,  and  dance  for  joy  at  his 
freedom;  flinging  himself  nobody  knows  how  high  into 
the  air,  and  floundering  down  again  with  a  shock  that 
made  the  earth  tremble.  Then  he  laughed — Ho !  ho !  ho ! 
— with  a  thunderous  roar  that  was  echoed  from  the 
mountains,  far  and  near,  as  if  they  and  the  giant  had 
been  so  many  rejoicing  brothers.  When  his  joy  had  a 
little  subsided,  he  stepped  into  the  sea;  ten  miles  at  the 
first  stride,  which  brought  him  mid-leg  deep;  and  ten 
miles  at  the  second,  when  the  water  came  just  above  his 
knees ;  and  ten  miles  more  at  the  third,  by  which  he  was 
immersed  nearly  to  his  waist.  This  was  the  greatest 
depth  of  the  sea. 

Hercules  watched  the  giant,  as  he  still  went  onward; 
for  it  was  really  a  wonderful  sight,  this  immense  human 
form,  more  than  thirty  miles  off,  half  hidden  in  the 
ocean,  but  with  his  upper  half  as  tall,  and  misty,  and  blue, 
as  a  distant  mountain.  At  last  the  gigantic  shape  faded 
entirely  out  of  view.  And  now  Hercules  began  to  con 
sider  what  he  should  do,  in  case  Atlas  should  be  drowned 
in  the  sea,  or  if  he  were  to  be  stung  to  death  by  the 


IO4  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

dragon  with  the  hundred  heads  which  guarded  the 
golden  apples  of  the  Hesperides.  If  any  such  misfortune 
were  to  happen,  how  could  he  ever  get  rid  of  the  sky? 
And,  by  the  by,  its  weight  began  already  to  be  a  little 
irksome  to  his  head  and  shoulders. 

"  I  really  pity  the  poor  giant,"  thought  Hercules. 
"  If  it  wearies  me  so  much  in  ten  minutes,  how  must  it 
have  wearied  him  in  a  thousand  years  ?  " 

I  know  not  how  long  it  was  before,  to  his  unspeakable 
joy,  he  beheld  the  huge  shape  of  the  giant,  like  a  cloud, 
on  the  far-off  edge  of  the  sea.  At  his  nearer  approach, 
Atlas  held  up  his  hand,  in  which  Hercules  could  perceive 
three  magnificent  golden  apples,  as  big  as  pumpkins,  all 
hanging  from  one  branch. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you  again,"  shouted  Hercules,  when 
the  giant  was  within  hearing.  "  So  you  have  got  the 
golden  apples  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  certainly,"  answered  Atlas ;  "  and  very 
fair  apples  they  are.  I  took  the  finest  that  grew  on  the 
tree,  I  assure  you.  Ah !  it  is  a  beautiful  spot,  that  gar 
den  of  the  Hesperides.  Yes;  and  the  dragon  with  a 
hundred  heads  is  a  sight  worth  any  man's  seeing.  After 
all,  you  had  better  have  gone  for  the  apples  yourself." 

"  No  matter,"  replied  Hercules.  "  You  have  had  a 
pleasant  ramble,  and  have  done  the  business  as  well  as  I 
could.  I  heartily  thank  you  for  your  trouble.  And  now, 
as  I  have  a  long  way  to  go  and  am  rather  in  haste — and 
as  the  king,  my  cousin,  is  anxious  to  receive  the  golden 
apples — will  you  be  kind  enough  to  take  the  sky  off  my 
shoulders  again  ?  " 

"  Why,  as  to  that,"  said  the  giant,  chucking  the  golden 
apples  into  the  air  twenty  miles  high,  or  thereabouts,  and 
catching  them  as  they  came  down — "  as  to  that,  my  good 


Hercules  and  the  Golden  Apples  105 

friend,  I  consider  you  a  little  unreasonable.  Cannot  I 
carry  the  golden  apples  to  the  king,  your  cousin,  much 
quicker  than  you  could?  As  his  majesty  is  in  such  a 
hurry  to  get  them,  I  promise  you  to  take  my  longest 
strides.  And  besides,  I  have  no  fancy  for  burdening 
myself  with  the  sky  just  now." 

Here  Hercules  grew  impatient,  and  gave  a  great 
shrug  of  his  shoulders.  It  being  now  twilight,  you  might 
have  seen  two  or  three  stars  tumble  out  of  their  places. 
Everybody  on  earth  looked  upward  in  affright,  thinking 
that  the  sky  might  be  going  to  fall  next. 

"  Oh,  that  will  never  do !  "  cried  Giant  Atlas,  with  a 
great  roar  of  laughter.  "  I  have  not  let  fall  so  many  stars 
within  the  last  five  centuries.  By  the  time  you  have 
stood  there  as  long  as  I  did,  you  will  begin  to  learn 
patience !  " 

"  What !  "  shouted  Hercules  very  wrathfully,  "  do  you 
intend  to  make  me  bear  this  burden  for  ever  ?  " 

"  We  will  see  about  that,  one  of  these  days,"  answered 
the  giant.  "  At  all  events,  you  ought  not  to  complain,  if 
you  have  to  bear  it  the  next  hundred  years,  or  perhaps  the 
next  thousand.  I  bore  it  a  good  while  longer,  in  spite  of 
the  back-ache.  Well,  then,  after  a  thousand  years,  if  I 
happen  to  feel  in  the  mood,  we  may  possibly  shift  about 
again.  You  are  certainly  a  very  strong  man,  and  can 
never  have  a  better  opportunity  to  prove  it.  Posterity 
will  talk  of  you,  I  warrant  it !  " 

"  Pish !  a  fig  for  its  talk !  "  cried  Hercules,  with  an 
other  hitch  of  his  shoulders.  "  Just  take  the  sky  upon 
your  head  one  instant,  will  you?  I  want  to  make  a 
cushion  of  my  lion's  skin  for  the  weight  to  rest  upon. 
It  really  chafes  me,  and  will  cause  unnecessary  incon 
venience  in  so  many  centuries  as  I  am  to  stand  here." 


io6  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

"  That's  no  more  than  fair,  and  I'll  do  it !  "  quoth  the 
giant;  for  he  had  no  unkind  feeling  toward  Hercules, 
and  was  merely  acting  with  a  too  selfish  consideration  of 
his  own  ease.  "  For  just  five  minutes,  then,  I'll  take  back 
the  sky.  Only  for  five  minutes,  recollect !  I  have  no  idea 
of  spending  another  thousand  years  as  I  spent  the  last. 
Variety  is  the  spice  of  life,  say  I." 

Ah,  the  thick-witted  old  rogue  of  a  giant!  He  threw 
down  the  golden  apples,  and  received  back  the  sky  from 
the  head  and  shoulders  of  Hercules  upon  his  own,  where 
it  rightly  belonged.  And  Hercules  picked  up  the  three 
golden  apples,  that  were  as  big  or  bigger  than  pumpkins, 
and  straightway  set  out  on  his  journey  homeward,  with 
out  paying  the  slightest  heed  to  the  thundering  tones  of 
the  giant,  who  bellowed  after  him  to  come  back.  Another 
forest  sprang  up  around  his  feet,  and  grew  ancient  there ; 
and  again  might  be  seen  oak  trees  of  six  or  seven  cen 
turies  old,  that  had  waxed  thus  aged  betwixt  his  enor 
mous  toes. 

And  there  stands  the  giant  to  this  day ;  or,  at  any  rate, 
there  stands  a  mountain  as  tall  as  he,  and  which  bears  his 
name;  and  when  the  thunder  rumbles  about  its  summit, 
we  may  imagine  it  to  be  the  voice  of  Giant  Atlas  bellow 
ing  after  Hercules! 


HERCULES  AND  NESSUS 

BY  H.  P.   MASKELL 

TTVAIREST  among  the  maidens  of  ^Etolia  was  Deia- 
±  nira,  daughter  of  CEneus,  King  of  Calydon.  From 
far  and  wide  came  suitors  seeking  her  hand  in  marriage, 
but  her  father  promised  to  give  her  only  to  him  who 
could  prove  his  strength  and  courage  above  all  others. 
What  lover,  however  ardent  his  desire,  dare  venture  to 
try  his  skill  against  Hercules  ?  And  when  the  hero  came 
to  court  only  Achelous  the  river-god  would  enter  the 
lists  against  him. 

Long  and  fierce  was  the  battle  between  these  two  as 
they  rushed  together,  grasping  each  other  foot  to  foot, 
fingers  pressed  upon  fingers,  and  forehead  to  forehead. 
For  some  time  they  seemed  equal  in  strength,  but  Her 
cules  pressed  harder,  and  seizing  his  enemy  by  the 
shoulders  threw  him  to  the  earth.  In  vain  Achelous 
changed  himself  into  a  serpent;  his  throat  was  grasped 
with  a  grip  that  would  strangle  him  in  spite  of  all  his 
lithe,  winding  folds,  and  the  hissing  as  he  darted  forth  his 
forked  tongue.  In  vain,  too,  he  sought  to  change  the 
issue  of  the  fight  in  the  form  of  a  wild  bull.  The  hero 
took  him  by  the  horns,  and  held  him  to  the  ground.  One 
of  the  horns  he  tore  off  by  main  force.  The  Naiads  took 
this  horn,  filled  it  with  fruit  and  flowers,  and  offered  it 
to  the  goddess  of  Plenty. 

So  Hercules  was  victor  in  the  lists  of  love,  and  won  for 
prize  the  king's  fair  daughter.  Many  years  the  happy 

107 


io8  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

pair  abode  in  Calydon,  and  children  were  born  to  them. 
Deianira  was  a  happy  wife,  and  her  only  grief  was  that 
her  lord  was  so  often  absent  from  home,  for  Hercules 
would  never  rest  from  his  toils.  On  one  of  these  ad 
ventures  he  had  been  persuaded  by  his  wife  to  take  her 
with  him,  and  on  their  way  home  they  came  to  a  broad 
and  rapid  river.  The  stream  was  swollen  with  winter 
rains,  and  the  eddies  were  deep  and  dangerous.  Nessus 
the  Centaur,  who  lived  in  a  cavern  close  by,  offered  to 
carry  Deianira  over  on  his  back.  He  knew  the  fords, 
and  his  strength  was  as  the  strength  of  ten.  So  Hercules 
trusted  his  wife  to  the  Centaur,  although  she  was  almost 
as  much  afraid  of  Nessus  as  she  was  of  the  dark  roaring 
torrent.  He  himself  threw  his  club  and  crooked  bow 
across,  and  plunged  boldly  into  the  stream. 

Just  as  he  reached  the  farther  bank  and  was  taking 
up  his  bow  he  heard  a  scream.  Nessus  had  betrayed  his 
trust,  and  was  about  to  carry  off  Deianira  in  the  very 
sight  of  her  husband.  Swiftly  flew  an  arrow  from  the 
bow,  which  pierced  the  traitor's  back.  It  was  tinged  with 
poison  from  the  hydra,  and  the  wound  was  mortal. 
Nessus,  as  he  drew  the  barbed  steel  from  his  body,  mut 
tered  to  himself,  "  I  will  not  die  unavenged."  Then 
handing  his  blood-stained  tunic  to  Deianira,  he  cried, 
"  I  have  sinned,  and  am  justly  punished.  Pardon  a 
dying  man,  and  in  token  of  forgiveness  accept  from  me 
a  dying  gift.  Keep  this  tunic  as  a  talisman.  If  ever  thy 
lord's  love  should  wax  cold,  or  he  should  look  upon  an 
other  woman  to  love  her  more  than  thee,  give  him  this 
charmed  tunic  to  wear,  and  it  will  rekindle  his  old 
passion." 

Time  passed  by,  and  the  feats  of  the  mighty  Hercules 
were  known  all  over  the  world.  Returning  victorious 


page  108] 


HERCULES  AND   NESSUS 


Hercules  and  Nessus  109 

from  battle  he  was  preparing  a  sacrifice  vowed  to  Jupiter 
on  Mount  (Eta,  when  he  found  he  lacked  the  proper 
dress,  and  sent  a  messenger  to  Deianira  for  a  robe. 
Meanwhile  rumor  had  been  busy,  and  a  tale  had  reached 
the  ears  of  Deianira  that  Hercules  was  in  love  with  lole, 
daughter  of  Eurytus,  whom  he  had  lately  vanquished 
and  slain.  As  she  loved  him,  she  believed  it,  and  alarmed 
with  the  story  burst  into  a  torrent  of  grief.  But  soon 
she  took  comfort.  "  Why  these  tears  ?  They  will  only 
flatter  my  rival.  I  must  seek  some  means  to  keep  my 
husband  for  myself."  And  then  she  bethought  herself 
of  the  tunic  that  Nessus  had  given  her.  What  if  she 
gave  this  tunic  to  the  messenger,  so  that  Hercules  should 
wear  it,  and  so  by  its  virtue  her  husband  be  restored  to 
her  again? 

The  fatal  gift  was  sent.  Hercules,  not  knowing  whose 
it  had  been,  put  it  on  as  he  went  to  sacrifice.  As  he  was 
pouring  wine  on  the  altars  the  venom  from  the  garment 
began  to  work.  He  tried  to  tear  the  tunic  from  him,  but 
it  clung  to  him  like  a  coat  of  pitch.  He  rolled  in  agony  on 
the  ground,  he  tore  away  his  very  flesh,  he  roared  in  agony 
like  a  wounded  bull,  and  the  hollows  of  GEta  reverberated 
his  groans.  At  last  he  fell  exhausted,  and  his  comrades 
bore  him  on  a  litter  to  the  ships.  Then  Hercules  knew 
that  his  end  was  come,  and,  preparing  himself  to  die  as 
a  hero  should,  he  gave  his  last  injunctions  to  his  son. 

A  pile  was  built  with  trees  at  the  top  of  the  mountain. 
To  his  friend  Philoctetes  he  gave  the  famous  bow  and 
quiver.  Then,  when  the  fire  had  been  kindled,  he  spread 
over  all  the  skin  of  the  Nemaean  lion,  and  laid  himself 
down  upon  it,  with  his  head  resting  on  his  club,  as  calmly 
as  a  guest  resting  after  the  banquet. 

Jupiter,  looking  down  from  heaven,  saw  the  hero  thus 


no  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

peaceful  amid  the  flames  of  the  burning  pile.  "  He  who 
has  conquered  all  men,"  he  cried,  "  shall  conquer  also 
these  fires.  Only  that  which  is  mortal  and  which  he 
received  from  his  mother  can  perish  there.  His  immor 
tal  part  I  will  receive  into  the  realms  above."  And  the 
other  gods  assented.  Even  Juno,  who  had  pursued 
the  hero  so  cruelly  during  his  life,  had  no  word  to  urge 
against  their  decision.  The  burning  pile  was  shrouded 
in  a  mist  of  dark  smoke;  and  while  the  mortal  body  of 
Hercules  fell  into  ashes,  him  the  great  father,  taking  up 
among  circling  clouds,  bore  aloft  to  the  glittering  stars 
in  his  chariot  drawn  by  four  fiery  steeds. 


THE  QUEST  OF  THE  GOLDEN  FLEECE 

BY  M.   M.  BIRD 

THE  great  hall  was  decked  for  a  banquet.  Revelers 
sat  round  the  laden  board  and  feasted  and  sang 
and  quaffed  rich  wines  from  silver  goblets.  The  king  on 
his  dai's  toyed  with  his  jeweled  wine-cup  and  gazed  down 
the  length  of  the  hall  at  the  flushed  faces  of  the  feasters, 
and  heard  their  gay  laughter  peal  up  to  the  vaulted  roof. 
Yet  the  eyes  of  Pelias,  the  king,  were  dark,  and  a  settled 
scowl  was  on  his  brow.  Terror  of  Heaven's  vengeance 
still  haunted  him.  He  had  commanded  this  festival  in 
honor  of  Neptune,  and  yet  he  knew  that  the  anger  of 
Jupiter  was  unappeased  while  the  Golden  Fleece  still 
hung  in  the  wood  at  Colchis. 

For  Phrixus,  son  of  ./Solus,  had  fled  on  the  Sacred 
Ram  with  the  Fleece  of  Gold,  to  ^Eetes,  King  of  Colchis, 
who  had  protected  him  and  given  him  his  daughter  Chal- 
ciope  to  wife.  Though  Phrixus  was  now  dead,  ./Eetes 
still  held  the  Fleece  in  Colchis,  and  the  line  of  JEolus 
languished  under  the  wrath  of  Jupiter  till  such  time  as  it 
was  restored  to  Greece. 

This  was  the  subject  of  the  king's  meditations  as  he 
looked  down  on  the  gay  company  assembled  at  his  feast. 
And  of  a  sudden  his  eyes  lighted  on  a  travel-stained 
figure  making  his  way  up  the  long  hall  to  the  steps  of  his 
throne,  in  spite  of  the  soiled  and  tattered  weeds.  He 
recognized  his  royal  kinsman.  It  was  Jason  son  of 

in 


H2  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 


,  his  own  nephew,  who,  determined  to  have  speech 
with  his  uncle  the  king,  had  now  dared  the  crossing  of  the 
river  Anaurus,  although  swollen  by  winter  rains,  and  had 
hardly  won  through.  Till  he  entered  the  palace  he  did 
not  know  of  the  great  feast  that  was  being  held,  but 
he  stood  not  on  ceremony,  and  made  his  way  to  the  foot 
of  the  throne,  just  as  he  was.  One  of  his  sandals  had 
stuck  in  the  mire  and  been  left  in  the  river  bed. 

Now  an  oracle  had  come  to  the  king  but  a  short  time 
before,  warning  him  to  beware  of  a  man  coming  in  from 
the  field  with  one  sandal  lacking.  And  King  Pelias 
shrank  from  the  sight  of  the  innocent  youth  who  stood 
before  him;  and  in  the  dark  depths  of  his  heart  devised 
a  cruel  plot  for  his  destruction,  whereby  he  might  rid 
himself  of  the  menace  and,  at  the  same  time,  be  restored 
to  the  favor  of  Jupiter. 

Undaunted  by  the  tyrant's  frown,  Jason  stood  before 
him  and  asserted  his  claim  to  the  throne.  "  I,  Jason,  son 
of  ^Eson,  of  the  line  of  yEolus,  live  as  a  peasant  among 
peasants  on  the  banks  of  Anaurus,"  he  cried,  in  his  brave 
young  voice.  "  Restore  me  to  my  rightful  place  as  son 
of  the  late  king." 

The  king  dared  not  openly  dispute  the  claim,  but  with 
a  feigned  smile  he  answered  :  "  Fetch  hither  the  Golden 
Fleece  held  by  ^Eetes  in  Colchis,  that  you  may  thus 
prove  worthy  to  boast  yourself  of  the  proud  line  of 
,#Lolus.  Deliver  your  father's  house  from  the  wrath  of 
Jupiter,  and  then  come  to  claim  your  birthright  !  " 

He  devised  this  task,  thinking  that  even  could  Jason 
perchance  overcome  the  Colchians,  he  must  assuredly 
be  slain  by  enemies  or  lost  in  the  sea  ere  ever  he  won 
home  again.  For  it  was  well  known  that  ^Eetes  had  hung 
the  Golden  Fleece  in  an  enchanted  wood,  and  set  a 


The  Quest  of  the  Golden  Fleece  113 

sleepless  serpent  to  guard  the  treasure  against  any  who 
should  pass  his  men-at-arms. 

At  first  Jason  was  cast  into  despair  at  the  greatness  of 
this  task,  but  strong  in  his  own  innocence  and  deter 
mined  to  vindicate  his  rights,  he  took  up  the  challenge. 
"  I  go,"  he  cried,  "  at  the  ruthless  behest  of  a  tyrannous 
king  and  the  doom  of  a  god !  Who  will  go  in  my  com 
pany — who  ?  " 

And  from  east  and  west  and  south  the  heroes  of  a 
hundred  deeds  came  hasting  to  join  him  on  his  quest, 
for  all  had  heard  of  the  Golden  Fleece  and  its  theft  by 
the  Colchian  men. 

And  the  fame  of  its  quest  was  noised  abroad  so  that 
all  who  loved  a  bold  venture  came  to  proffer  Jason  their 
aid;  and  with  others  it  was  the  lust  of  gold  that  drew 
them;  and  with  others,  again,  love  of  justice  and  pity  for 
the  youth  robbed  of  his  birthright  by  an  unjust  king. 
Thus  there  came  to  lolcus  the  mighty  Hercules,  and  the 
twin  sons  of  Jupiter,  Castor  and  Pollux,  Orpheus  with 
his  magic  lute,  Idmon  the  seer,  and  Tiphys  the  steersman, 
and  others  all  famous  for  their  prowess  in  war,  the  sons 
of  gods  and  heroes,  too  many  to  name. 

Then  Jason  set  himself  to  prepare  for  his  great  enter 
prise,  gathering  stores  and  arms,  and  eagerly  seeking 
information  of  those  who  had  traveled  afar  off  of  the 
Colchians  and  their  king  ^Eetes,  and  the  famed  Fleece  of 
Gold,  while  the  good  ship  Argo  was  daily  growing  under 
the  fashioning  hands  of  Argus  and  his  men,  who,  in 
structed  by  Minerva,  built  so  gallant  a  ship  as  had  never 
before  sailed  the  seas.  And  daily  there  were  added  to 
Jason's  company  valiant  warriors  and  men  of  renown, 
young  and  old,  till  at  last  the  day  came  when  the  Argo 
was  launched  for  her  great  enterprise,  and  the  last 


H4  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

sacrifices  were  paid  to  the  protecting  gods,  and  the  last 
feast  was  eaten  on  the  Pagasaean  shore.  Then  the 
heroes  cast  lots  for  their  places  at  the  oars — for  all  but 
the  place  of  honor  at  the  middle  thwart,  which  was  given 
to  Hercules  and  his  companion  Ancseus.  Tiphys,  by 
common  consent,  was  set  at  the  helm,  while  Jason  was 
proclaimed  captain  and  chief,  in  peace  and  in  war,  of 
all  the  goodly  band. 

And  thus  it  came  that  such  a  company  of  heroes  as 
had  never  before  been  gathered  together  on  one  quest 
sailed  forth  from  lolcus  in  the  Argo  in  search  of  the 
Golden  Fleece. 

For  many  days  they  pursued  their  way,  braving  the 
storms  of  those  dangerous  seas,  landing  on  strange  coasts 
where  sometimes  they  found  shelter  and  kindness,  but 
oftener  had  to  fight  for  life  and  honor.  But  ever  the 
glorious  quest  inspired  them,  the  Golden  Fleece  bright 
ened  their  dreams,  and  they  strove  loyally  together  to 
win  through  all  temptations  and  dangers.  But  not  all  of 
them  survived  to  reach  their  goal.  Great  Hercules  was 
left  on  the  Mysian  hills  seeking  his  lost  armor-bearer 
Hylas;  and  Idmon  the  seer,  faring  across  a  marshy 
plain,  was  suddenly  attacked  by  a  wild  boar  and  so 
wounded  that  he  died.  For  three  whole  days  the  heroes 
mourned  his  loss;  and  while  they  mourned,  Tiphys  the 
steersman  fell  sick,  and  his  sickness  was  unto  death. 
For  grief  then  the  band  had  gone  no  farther  on  the 
quest  had  not  Ancseus  rekindled  their  courage  with 
brave  words  and  offered  himself  as  their  steersman. 
And  by  general  acclamation  he  was  elected  to  the  post, 
and  they  set  forth  on  their  way  with  renewed  faith. 

But  at  last  the  gallant  Argo  won  through  the  Pontus 
Sea  and  the  dreadful  Dark  Blue  Crags,  and  the  voy- 


The  Quest  of  the  Golden  Fleece          115 

agers  knew  themselves  to  be  near  to  Colchis  and  the 
end  of  their  journeying.  Picture  to  yourselves  the 
storm-tossed  Argo  flying  over  the  seas,  and  great  eagles 
swooping  and  wheeling  overhead,  by  which  Jason,  the 
captain,  knew  that  they  approached  the  island  of  Mars, 
where  those  winged  messengers  of  the  gods  were  wont 
to  attack  any  who  dared  effect  a  landing.  But  by  his 
command  the  heroes  armed  themselves,  and  the  oars 
men  were  protected  by  the  shields  of  their  comrades 
from  the  feathered  darts  rained  down  upon  them  by  the 
furious  birds.  And  with  loud  clashing  and  clanging  of 
their  harness  the  creatures  were  scared  away.  So  the 
heroes  reached  the  shore  and  rested  there  in  peace  after 
their  battling  with  the  storm.  And  as  they  lay  on  the 
shore  they  saw  in  the  waves  a  great  spar,  and  four  young 
men  clinging  to  it,  tossed  hither  and  thither,  till  at 
length  it  was  cast  up  on  to  the  beach.  These  proved  to 
be  the  four  sons  of  Phrixus,  who  had  been  thrust  out 
of  Colchis  by  their  stern  grandsire  ^Eetes,  and  sent  away 
in  a  little  boat.  Their  skiff  had  been  too  frail  to  with 
stand  the  storm  that  the  good  ship  Argo  had  outlived. 

When  these  heard  of  the  quest,  they  offered  Jason 
their  allegiance,  and  begged  him  to  accept  their  aid  in 
his  perilous  venture,  which  he  gladly  did.  So,  in  calm 
weather,  they  sailed  gaily  on  to  Colchis,  elated  to  have 
thus  escaped  all  the  perils  and  to  be  within  sight  of  their 
goal. 

The  Golden  Fleece  burned  ever  brighter  before  the 
longing  eyes  of  that  hero  band;  courage  and  loyalty 
inspired  each  heart  and  nerved  each  arm;  they  were 
ready  to  give  life  itself,  if  need  be,  to  achieve  their 
task  and  bring  again  the  miraculous  Fleece  to  Greece — 
and  such  a  spirit  is  unconquerable. 


n6  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

Now  ^Eetes,  King  of  Colchis,  dwelt  in  his  city  by  the 
sea.  He  had  but  two  daughters,  the  elder,  Chalciope, 
was  the  widow  of  that  Phrixus  who  had  come  hither  rid 
ing  on  the  Golden  Ram,  while  the  younger  was  Medea,  a 
sorceress.  She  was  a  priestess  of  Hecate,  and  served 
the  dreadful  mysteries  of  the  goddess.  She  was  versed 
in  all  poisons  and  philters,  and  would  wander  out  into 
wild  places  beyond  the  city  to  gather  herbs  for  the  brew 
ing  of  her  mystic  potions.  She  lived  with  her  brothers, 
the  sons  of  yEetes,  and  Chalciope  her  sister,  in  a  palace 
in  the  city,  and  beside  it  stood  a  temple  to  Hecate. 

It  happened  on  a  certain  day  that  Medea,  as  was  her 
wont,  went  into  the  hall  of  the  temple,  and  as  she  stood 
there  she  saw  a  crowd  approaching  up  the  street.  Fore 
most  in  the  throng  she  saw  her  sister's  four  sons,  who 
had  been  mourned  as  lost  for  ever.  She  cried  aloud,  and 
the  waiting-women  in  the  palace  heard  her  cry  and 
dropped  their  broideries,  and  with  Chalciope  her  sister 
came  running  to  learn  the  cause  of  her  fear.  And  Chal 
ciope  saw  her  sons  and  clasped  them  to  her  with  tears  of 
joy.  But  Medea  stood  gazing  at  the  splendid  strangers 
who  came  with  therm — Jason  and  his  two  friends,  Tela- 
mon  and  Augias.  And  as  she  gazed,  Cupid  let  fly  one  of 
his  burning  shafts,  and  it  pierced  the  maiden's  bosom 
and  there  burned  with  a  dull  flame.  And  her  eyes  were 
fastened  on  Jason's  comely  face,  and  the  conscious 
blushes  flamed  in  the  whiteness  of  her  cheeks,  and  she 
stood  as  if  bound  by  one  of  her  own  spells. 

Hearing  the  commotion,  the  king  and  queen  inquired 
the  cause;  and  when  they  saw  the  handsome  strangers 
they  gave  them  fair  welcome,  and  invited  them  to  join 
their  banquet.  Though  ^Eetes  looked  sourly  on  the  sons 
of  Phrixus,  of  whom  he  had  thought  to  have  rid  himself 


The  Quest  of  the  Golden  Fleece  117 

for  ever,  he  was  constrained  to  receive  them  also  with" 
their  rescuers. 

When  seated  at  the  banquet,  Argus,  one  of  Phrixus' 
sons,  explained  to  the  king  all  the  circumstances  of 
Jason's  coming,  and  the  quest  on  which  he  came.  "  Not 
to  take  the  Fleece  by  force  he  comes,"  pleaded  Argus, 
"  but  is  minded  to  pay  a  fair  price  for  thy  gift.  He  has 
heard  of  the  bitter  enmity  of  the  Sauromatae :  these  rebels 
he  will  subdue  for  thee,  and  put  them  under  thy  sway." 

The  king's  wrath  waxed  hot,  and  chiefly  with  his 
daughter's  sons,  for  he  deemed  that  they  had  stirred  up 
Jason  to  this  quest.  "  Not  for  the  Fleece  come  ye !  "  he 
cried ;  "  but  my  scepter  and  my  kingly  honor  ye  come 
to  steal !  Now,  if  ye  had  not  broken  bread  at  my  table 
before  ye  spoke,  your  tongues  had  I  surely  cut  out,  and 
had  hewn  your  hands  from  your  wrists,  and  had  sent 
you  forth  with  naught  but  your  feet  to  fare  through  the 
land!  So  should  ye  refrain  hereafter  from  coming  on 
such  like  quest." 

But  Jason  made  gentle  answer  to  the  angry  king,  as 
suring  him  that  no  such  wild  dream  had  brought  him  to 
this  land,  but  the  ruthless  behest  of  a  tyrannous  king  and 
the  doom  of  a  god. 

Then  the  king  inly  pondered  whether  to  fall  on  the 
heroes  and  do  them  to  death  or  put  their  might  to  the 
test.  And  this  he  decided  to  be  the  better  way,  for  they 
were  mighty  men  and  renowned  for  valor,  and  he  saw 
that  he  should  have  to  overcome  them  by  subtlety.  So 
he  set  Jason  this  impossible  task:  On  the  plain  of  Mars 
were  two  brazen-hoofed  bulls,  breathing  flames  of  fire; 
these  Jason  must  yoke,  and  by  them  drive  four  plow 
shares  across  the  plain  from  dawn  to  dusk.  And  in  the 
furrows  sow  the  teeth  of  a  dragon,  from  which  out  of 


n8  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

the  earth  armed  warriors  should  spring,  and  these  he 
must  smite  and  conquer! 

The  hero  sat  speechless  in  his  despair,  for  he  deemed 
no  man  sufficient  for  so  terrible  a  task.  But  Argus 
went  out  with  him,  and  knowing  his  own  and  his 
brothers'  fate  to  hang  on  him,  implored  him  to  consult 
his  mother's  sister,  Medea,  the  sorceress.  Jason,  for 
kindness,  consented,  but  with  little  hope  of  the  issue. 

So  Argus  returned  to  his  mother,  to  beg  her  to  inter 
cede  with  Medea. 

Medea,  torn  with  love  for  Jason,  spent  the  night  in 
mourning  over  his  certain  fate  unless  he  craved  her  aid 
in  his  gigantic  task,  and  was  longing,  yet  ashamed,  to 
proffer  it.  It  was,  therefore,  to  the  relief  of  her  inde 
cision  that  her  sister  Chalciope  came  to  her  at  length, 
and  begged  her  to  interfere  to  save  her  four  sons  from 
the  doom  that  threatened  them.  Medea  was  glad,  for 
she  was  thus  enabled  to  save  her  dignity,  and  in  obeying 
the  dictates  of  her  heart  seem  only  to  be  concerned  with 
the  safety  of  her  sister's  sons. 

Next  morning,  therefore,  she  called  her  maidens  and 
went  out  in  her  chariot  to  the  fane  of  Hecate  on  the 
plain  beyond  the  city,  a  place  where  she  was  often  wont 
to  go  to  gather  herbs.  There  Jason  met  her,  and  he 
sacrificed  his  pride  to  beg  her  assistance.  She  was  torn 
between  love  for  him  and  a  sense  of  duty  to  her  father; 
but  yet  love  was  the  stronger,  and  she  promised  him  her 
aid.  Long  they  talked  together  in  that  wilderness  till 
the  shades  of  evening  fell  and  her  attendants  became 
uneasy  at  her  long  tarrying.  She  gave  him  a  magic 
drug  that  would  render  his  body  and  arms  invulnerable 
against  all  attack,  and  gave  him  also  minute  directions 
for  his  guidance  in  his  dreadful  conflict.  And  Jason  saw 


The  Quest  of  the  Golden  Fleece          119 

how  beautiful  and  tender  she  was,  and  love  for  her 
awoke  in  his  heart,  and  he  wooed  her  with  gentle  words, 
and  vowed  that  if  she  would  go  with  him  to  Greece  she 
should  there  be  made  his  honored  wife. 

Evening  drew  on,  and  Medea  went  sadly  back  to  her 
night  of  anguished  vigil  in  her  palace  in  the  city,  while 
Jason  prepared  himself  for  his  doubtful  conflict.  At 
midnight  he  bathed  alone  in  the  sacred  river.  Then  he 
digged  a  pit  in  the  plain  as  Medea  had  directed  him,  and 
offered  a  lamb  by  the  pit's  brink,  and  kindled  a  pyre 
and  burned  the  carcase.  Mingled  libations  he  also 
poured,  and  then,  calling  on  Hecate,  drew  back  and 
strode  from  the  place,  and  looked  not  cnce  behind  him 
at  the  awful  queen  he  had  invoked,  nor  the  shapes  of 
fear  that  accompanied  her,  nor  turned  at  the  wild  bay 
ing  of  the  hounds  of  hell. 

Then  he  sprinkled  his  corslet,  his  helm,  and  his  arms 
with  the  drug  Medea  gave  him,  and  his  comrades  proved 
his  harness  with  all  their  might  and  main,  whose  ringing 
blows  fell  harmless  upon  it.  Then  he  sprinkled  his  own 
limbs  with  the  magic  drug  and  fared  forth  invincible. 

At  dawn,  the  heroes  sailed  in  the  Argo  up  the  river 
till  they  came  near  to  the  plain  of  Mars,  and  there  an 
chored.  King  ^Eetes  came  out  from  the  city  in  proces 
sion  to  the  lists,  and  all  the  men  of  Colchis  were  gathered 
on  the  one  hand  and  the  heroes  on  the  other  to  watch 
the  outcome  of  this  terrible  strife. 

So  Jason  set  to  his  task.  Bearing  with  him  his  helm 
full  of  the  dragon's  teeth  he  crossed  the  field,  and  there 
saw  the  brazen  yoke  lying,  and  the  plow  of  massive 
stone.  Suddenly,  from  their  lair,  the  bulls  rushed  out 
together  and  bore  down  upon  him.  Jason,  setting  his 
feet  wide,  caught  their  charge  on  his  shield  and  with- 


120  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

stood  the  shock.  Mightily  he  seized  the  horn  of  one  of 
the  monsters,  haled  with  all  his  strength,  and  striking  its 
hoof  with  his  foot  cast  it  down  on  its  knees.  And,  to  the 
amazement  of  all,  he  did  likewise  to  its  fellow.  Then 
he  cast  away  his  shield,  and  holding  them  down  set  the 
brazen  yoke  on  their  necks.  All  marveled  at  his  super 
human  strength.  The  brow  of  y£etes  was  black,  but  the 
heroes  rejoiced  and  cheered  their  leader  right  lustily. 

Then  he  took  with  him  the  helm  full  of  dragon's  teeth, 
and  his  spear  for  a  goad,  and  forced  those  frantic 
beasts  to  draw  the  massive  plow  across  the  plain,  and 
sowed  his  baneful  seed  as  he  went.  All  day  long  he 
drove  his  resisting  team  across  the  stony  plain;  and  as 
the  granite  plowshare  tore  its  way  through  the  earth  he 
cast  the  dragon's  teeth  among  the  upturned  clods. 

And  at  length  the  evening  fell,  and  he  unloosed  the 
yoke,  and  with  smiting  and  shouting  scared  the  bulls 
across  the  plain  to  their  caves.  Then  he  gladly  returned 
to  the  Argo,  plunged  his  helm  into  the  river,  and  was 
about  to  slake  his  terrible  thirst,  when  he  turned  to  see 
the  whole  earth  bristling  with  armed  warriors,  row  on 
row  of  shields  and  spears  and  helms.  The  words  of  Medea 
came  to  his  remembrance  then,  and  ere  he  fell  upon  them 
he  took  up  from  the  earth  a  great  round  boulder  such 
as  four  strong  men  of  to-day  scarce  could  move,  and 
flung  it  in  their  midst. 

Loudly  the  Colchians  shouted,  but  speechless  fear 
seized  on  their  king  when  he  saw  the  flight  of  that  mass 
ive  crag  and  beheld  the  earthborn  slaying  each  other. 
And  among  them  stood  Jason,  beautiful  as  a  god,  hew 
ing  them  down  with  his  sword,  till  not  one  was  left 
alive. 

Then  the  night  fell  and  Jason  slept,  for  he  knew  that 


The  Quest  of  the  Golden  Fleece          121 

his  task  was  accomplished.  ^Eetes  and  his  princes  went 
silently  back  to  their  city,  for  the  superhuman  power  of 
the  hero  inspired  them  with  nameless  fears. 

And  in  the  palace  Medea  was  smitten  with  terror,  for 
she  knew  that  it  must  come  to  the  ears  of  the  king  her 
father,  that  by  her  arts  Jason  had  been  helped  to  vic 
tory,  and  she  dreaded  his  vengeance.  She  knew  not 
where  to  turn  for  aid  but  to  Jason  himself ;  so  she  veiled 
herself,  and  thrusting  her  secret  drugs  and  poisons  into 
her  bosom,  she  fled  in  the  darkness  from  her  palace. 
Through  the  night  she  hastened,  weeping  piteously,  torn 
between  love  and  duty  to  her  parents  and  her  passion 
for  the  man  her  spells  had  helped,  till  she  saw  the  gleam 
of  the  fire  where  the  heroes  were  feasting  on  the  river 
bank.  And  through  the  noise  of  their  revelry  and  the 
ringing  of  their  gay  laughter  a  bitter  cry  was  heard — a 
woman's  cry.  And  the  sons  of  Phrixus,  her  nephews, 
and  Jason,  her  lover,  knew  her  voice,  and  they  hastily 
thrust  out  from  the  bank  and  rowed  to  the  place  where 
she  stood,  and  Jason  leaped  to  the  bank  beside  her. 

Then  Medea  clung  to  his  knees  and  besought  him  to 
carry  her  away  lest  her  father's  vengeance  should  fall 
heavy  upon  her.  Therefore,  before  them  all,  he  swore 
to  take  her  to  Greece  and  wed  her  there. 

Then  she  adjured  them  to  go  in  haste,  wasting  no 
more  precious  hours  in  revelry,  to  fetch  the  Golden 
Fleece  before  y£etes  came  in  pursuit  of  them.  "  Speed," 
she  cried,  "  while  darkness  covers  your  deeds !  " 

So  they  went  in  all  haste,  till  they  came  to  the  en 
chanted  wood  where  the  Fleece  was  hanging  on  an  oak 
tree.  And  Medea  landed  there  with  Jason,  and  together 
they  sped  through  the  wood  till  they  saw  the  Fleece 
shining  like  flame  through  the  dusk,  while  before  it,  in 


122  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

coil  on  coil,  loathsome,  with  open,  watchful  eyes,  the 
awful  serpent  reared  its  head. 

Then  Medea  called  the  magic  of  sleep  to  her  aid.  She 
anointed  the  serpent's  head  with  her  drugs,  and  rained 
her  spells  on  its  unsleeping  eyes,  and  it  sank  down  upon 
the  earth  in  lazily  undulating  folds,  until  at  length  it 
slept. 

Then  Jason  cast  the  great  Fleece  across  his  shoulder,  and 
it  fell  down  all  his  height  and  trailed  upon  the  ground. 
And  he  caught  it  up  about  him  and  hastened  from  the 
spot.  The  Argonauts,  watching  anxiously,  saw  it  come 
flaming  through  the  trees.  They  greeted  the  achieving 
of  their  quest  with  shouts  of  joy,  and  strove  among  them 
selves  to  touch  the  glorious  Fleece.  But  Jason  was 
seized  with  fear  lest  some  god  or  man  should  arrive  to 
wrest  his  treasure  from  him,  so  he  covered  the  shim 
mering  Fleece  with  a  mantle,  and  it  lay  in  the  stern 
of  the  Argo,  with  the  maiden  beside  it,  and  Jason  stood 
above  them  with  his  harness  on  his  back  and  his  great 
sword  in  his  hand. 

And  the  rowers  bent  to  their  oars,  and  the  strong 
blades  beat  the  .waves,  and  swifter  than  a  flying  bird 
the  good  ship  sped  down  the  tide. 

By  this  King  ^Eetes  and  the  Colchians  knew  of 
Medea's  love  and  her  deeds  of  rebellion.  They  swarmed 
on  the  river  banks,  and  y£etes  on  his  white  charger  pur 
sued  the  flying  boat.  But  he  could  not  reach  his  dis 
obedient  daughter  nor  stay  the  flight  of  the  hero  band 
who  had  escaped  the  death  he  plotted,  by  the  aid  of  love. 
And  in  his  wrath  the  king  sent  ships  after  them  and 
charged  his  captains :  "  Except  ye  lay  hands  on  the 
maiden  and  bring  her  so  that  I  may  pour  the  fury  with 
which  I  burn  upon  her,  on  your  heads  shall  all  these 


The  Quest  of  the  Golden  Fleece  123 

things  light,  and  ye  shall  learn  the  full  measure  of  my 
wrath." 

But  far  across  the  seas  the  good  ship  Argo  flew,  and 
though  the  Colchians  pursued,  Medea  was  never  taken, 
but  after  all  adventure  reached  lolcus  with  Jason,  her 
lover  and  her  lord. 

For  it  was  ordained  of  the  high  gods  that  the  Golden 
Fleece  should  be  brought  back  to  Greece  by  the  might  of 
Jason  and  his  brotherhood  of  heroes,  that  the  wrath  of 
Jupiter  might  be  appeased.  For  the  heroes  went  on  the 
quest  armed  with  the  strength  of  innocence,  and  love 
fought  on  their  side  that  they  might  prove  mightier  than 
a  ruthless  king  or  the  doom  of  an  offended  god. 


HOW  THESEUS  FOUND  HIS  FATHER 

BY  NATHANIEL  HAWTHORNE 

IN  the  old  city  of  Troezene,  at  the  foot  of  a  lofty 
mountain,  there  lived,  a  very  long  time  ago,  a  little 
boy  named  Theseus.  His  grandfather,  King  Pittheus, 
was  the  sovereign  of  that  country,  and  was  reckoned  a 
very  wise  man ;  so  that  Theseus,  being  brought  up  in  the 
royal  palace,  and  being  naturally  a  bright  lad,  could 
hardly  fail  of  profiting  by  the  old  king's  instructions. 
His  mother's  name  was  ^Ethra.  As  for  his  father,  the 
boy  had  never  seen  him.  But,  from  his  earliest  re 
membrance,  ^Ethra  used  to  go  with  little  Theseus  into  a 
wood,  and  sit  down  upon  a  moss-grown  rock,  which  was 
deeply  sunken  into  the  earth.  Here  she  often  talked 
with  her  son  about  his  father,  and  said  that  he  was  called 
^Egeus,  and  that  he  was  a  great  king,  and  ruled  over 
Attica,  and  dwelt  at  Athens,  which  was  as  famous  a  city 
as  any  in  the  world.  Theseus  was  very  fond  of  hearing 
about  King  ^Egeus,  and  often  asked  his  good  mother 
yEthra  why  he  did  not  come  and  live  with  them  at 
Troezene. 

"  Ah,  my  dear  son,"  answered  ^Ethra,  with  a  sigh,  "  a 
monarch  has  his  people  to  take  care  of.  The  men  and 
women  over  whom  he  rules  are  in  the  place  of  children  to 
him;  and  he  can  seldom  spare  time  to  love  his  own 
children  as  other  parents  do.  Your  father  will  never  be 
able  to  leave  his  kingdom  for  the  sake  of  seeing  his  little 
boy." 

124 


How  Theseus  Found  His  Father          125 

"  Well,  but,  dear  mother,"  asked  the  boy,  "  why  can 
not  I  go  to  this  famous  city  of  Athens,  and  tell  King 
yEgeus  that  I  am  his  son  ?  " 

"  That  may  happen  by  and  by,"  said  yEthra.  "  Be 
patient,  and  we  shall  see.  You  are  not  yet  big  and 
strong  enough  to  set  out  on  such  an  errand." 

"  And  how  soon  shall  I  be  strong  enough  ? "  Theseus 
persisted  in  inquiring. 

"  You  are  but  a  tiny  boy  as  yet,"  replied  his  mother. 
"  See  if  you  can  lift  this  rock  on  which  we  are  sitting." 

The  little  fellow  had  a  great  opinion  of  his  own 
strength.  So,  grasping  the  rough  protuberances  of  the 
rock,  he  tugged  and  toiled  amain,  and  got  himself  quite 
out  of  breath,  without  being  able  to  stir  the  heavy  stone. 
It  seemed  to  be  rooted  into  the  ground.  No  wonder 
he  could  not  move  it;  for  it  would  have  taken  all  the 
force  of  a  very  strong  man  to  lift  it  out  of  its  earthy 
bed. 

His  mother  stood  looking  on,  with  a  sad  kind  of  a 
smile  on  her  lips  and  in  her  eyes,  to  see  the  zealous  and 
yet  puny  efforts  of  her  little  boy.  She  could  not  help 
being  sorrowful  at  finding  him  already  so  impatient  to 
begin  his  adventures  in  the  world. 

"  You  see  how  it  is,  my  dear  Theseus,"  said  she. 
"  You  must  possess  far  more  strength  than  now  before 
I  can  trust  you  to  go  to  Athens,  and  tell  King  /Egeus 
that  you  are  his  son.  But  when  you  can  lift  this  rock, 
and  show  me  what  is  hidden  beneath  it,  I  promise  you 
my  permission  to  depart." 

Often  and  often,  after  this,  did  Theseus  ask  his 
mother  whether  it  was  yet  time  for  him  to  go  to  Athens ; 
and  still  his  mother  pointed  to  the  rock,  and  told  him 
that,  for  years  to  come,  he  could  not  be  strong  enough 


126  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

to  move  it.  And  again  and  again  the  rosy-cheeked  and 
curly-headed  boy  would  tug  and  strain  at  the  huge  mass 
of  stone,  striving,  child  as  he  was,  to  do  what  a  giant 
could  hardly  have  done  without  taking  both  of  his  great 
hands  to  the  task.  Meanwhile  the  rock  seemed  to  be 
sinking  farther  and  farther  into  the  ground.  The  moss 
grew  over  it  thicker  and  thicker,  until  at  last  it  looked 
almost  like  a  soft  green  seat,  with  only  a  few  gray 
knobs  of  granite  peeping  out.  The  overhanging  trees, 
also,  shed  their  brown  leaves  upon  it,  as  often  as  the 
autumn  came;  and  at  its  base  grew  ferns  and  wild 
flowers,  some  of  which  crept  quite  over  its  surface.  To 
all  appearance  the  rock  was  as  firmly  fastened  as  any 
other  portion  of  the  earth's  substance. 

But  difficult  as  the  matter  looked,  Theseus  was  now 
growing  up  to  be  such  a  vigorous  youth  that,  in  his 
own  opinion,  the  time  would  quickly  come  when  he 
might  hope  to  get  the  upper  hand  of  this  ponderous 
lump  of  stone. 

"  Mother,  I  do  believe  it  has  started !  "  cried  he,  after 
one  of  his  attempts.  "  The  earth  around  it  is  certainly  a 
little  cracked !  " 

"  No,  no,  child !  "  his  mother  hastily  answered.  "  It 
is  not  possible  that  you  can  have  moved  it,  such  a  boy 
as  you  still  are !  " 

Nor  would  she  be  convinced,  although  Theseus  showed 
her  the  place  where  he  fancied  that  the  stem  of  a  flower 
had  been  partly  uprooted  by  the  movement  of  the  rock. 
But  JEthra.  sighed  and  looked  disquieted ;  for,  no  doubt, 
she  began  to  be  conscious  that  her  son  was  no  longer 
a  child,  and  that,  in  a  little  while  hence,  she  must  send 
him  forth  among  the  perils  and  troubles  of  the  world. 

It  was  not  more  than  a  year  afterwards  when  they 


How  Theseus  Found  His  Father          127 

were  again  sitting  on  the  moss-covered  stone.  y£thra 
had  once  more  told  him  the  oft-repeated  story  of  his 
father,  and  how  gladly  he  would  receive  Theseus  at  his 
stately  palace,  and  how  he  would  present  him  to  his 
courtiers  and  the  people,  and  tell  them  that  here  was 
the  heir  of  his  dominions.  The  eyes  of  Theseus  glowed 
with  enthusiasm,  and  he  would  hardly  sit  still  to  hear  his 
mother  speak. 

"  Dear  mother  ^Ethra,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  never  felt 
half  so  strong  as  now !  I  am  no  longer  a  child,  nor  a 
boy,  nor  a  mere  youth !  I  feel  myself  a  man !  It  is  now 
time  to  make  one  earnest  trial  to  remove  the  stone." 

"  Ah,  my  dearest  Theseus,"  replied  his  mother,  "  not 
yet!  not  yet!" 

"  Yes,  mother,"  he  said  resolutely,  "  the  time  has 
come!" 

Then  Theseus  bent  himself  in  good  earnest  to  the 
task,  and  strained  every  sinew,  with  manly  strength  and 
resolution.  He  put  his  whole  brave  heart  into  the  effort. 
He  wrestled  with  the  big  and  sluggish  stone,  as  if  it  had 
been  a  living  enemy.  He  heaved,  he  lifted,  he  resolved 
now  to  succeed,  or  else  to  perish  there  and  let  the  rock  be 
his  monument  forever !  ^Ethra  stood  gazing  at  him,  and 
clasped  her  hands,  partly  with  a  mother's  pride  and  partly 
with  a  mother's  sorrow.  The  great  rock  stirred!  Yes; 
it  was  raised  slowly  from  the  bedded  moss  and  earth, 
uprooting  the  shrubs  and  flowers  along  with  it,  and  was 
turned  upon  its  side.  Theseus  had  conquered! 

While  taking  breath  he  looked  joyfully  at  his  mother, 
and  she  smiled  upon  him  through  her  tears. 

"  Yes,  Theseus,"  she  said,  "  the  time  has  come,  and  you 
must  stay  no  longer  at  my  side !  See  what  King  ^Egeus, 
your  royal  father,  left  for  you,  beneath  the  stone,  when 


128  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

he  lifted  it  in  his  mighty  arms  and  laid  it  on  the  spot 
whence  you  have  now  removed  it." 

Theseus  looked,  and  saw  that  the  rock  had  been  placed 
over  another  slab  of  stone,  containing  a  cavity  within  it ; 
so  that  it  somewhat  resembled  a  roughly  made  chest  or 
coffer,  of  which  the  upper  mass  had  served  as  the  lid. 
Within  the  cavity  lay  a  sword,  with  a  golden  hilt,  and  a 
pair  of  sandals. 

"  That  was  your  father's  sword,"  said  ^Ethra,  "  and 
those  were  his  sandals.  When  he  went  to  be  King  of 
Athens,  he  bade  me  treat  you  as  a  child  until  you  should 
prove  yourself  a  man  by  lifting  this  heavy  stone.  That 
task  being  accomplished,  you  are  to  put  on  his  sandals, 
in  order  to  follow  in  your  father's  footsteps,  and  to  gird 
on  his  sword,  so  that  you  may  fight  giants  and  dragons, 
as  King  ^Egeus  did  in  his  youth." 

"  I  will  set  out  for  Athens  this  very  day ! "  cried 
Theseus. 

But  his  mother  persuaded  him  to  stay  a  day  or  two 
longer,  while  she  got  ready  some  necessary  articles  for 
his  journey.  When  his  grandfather,  the  wise  King 
Pittheus,  heard  that  Theseus  intended  to  present  himself 
at  his  father's  palace,  he  earnestly  advised  him  to  get 
on  board  of  a  vessel,  and  go  by  sea;  because  he  might 
thus  arrive  within  fifteen  miles  of  Athens,  without  either 
fatigue  or  danger. 

"  The  roads  are  very  bad  by  land,"  quoth  the  venerable 
king ;  "  and  they  are  terribly  infested  with  robbers  and 
monsters.  A  mere  lad  like  Theseus  is  not  fit  to  be 
trusted  on  such  a  perilous  journey  all  by  himself.  No, 
no ;  let  him  go  by  sea ! " 

But  when  Theseus  heard  of  robbers  and  monsters,  he 
pricked  up  his  ears  and  was  so  much  the  more  eager  to 


How  Theseus  Found  His  Father          129 

take  the  road  along  which  they  were  to  be  met  with. 
On  the  third  day,  therefore,  he  bade  a  respectful  fare 
well  to  his  grandfather,  thanking  him  for  all  his  kind 
ness;  and,  after  affectionately  embracing  his  mother, 
he  set  forth,  with  a  good  many  of  her  tears  glistening 
on  his  cheeks,  and  some,  if  the  truth  must  be  told,  that 
had  gushed  out  of  his  own  eyes.  But  he  let  the  sun  and 
wind  dry  them,  and  walked  stoutly  on,  playing  with  the 
golden  hilt  of  his  sword  and  taking  very  manly  strides 
in  his  father's  sandals. 

I  cannot  stop  to  tell  you  hardly  any  of  the  adventures 
that  befell  Theseus  on  the  road  to  Athens.  It  is  enough 
to  say  that  he  quite  cleared  that  part  of  the  country  of 
the  robbers  about  whom  King  Pittheus  had  been  so  much 
alarmed.  One  of  these  bad  people  was  named  Procrustes, 
and  he  was  indeed  a  terrible  fellow,  and  had  an  ugly 
way  of  making  fun  of  the  poor  travelers  who  happened 
to  fall  into  his  clutches.  In  his  cavern  he  had  a  bed,  on 
which,  with  great  pretense  of  hospitality,  he  invited  his 
guests  to  lie  down;  but  if  they  happened  to  be  shorter 
than  the  bed,  this  wicked  villain  stretched  them  out  by 
main  force;  or,  if  they  were  too  tall,  he  lopped  off  their 
heads  or  feet,  and  laughed  at  what  he  had  done  as  an 
excellent  joke.  Thus,  however  weary  a  man  might  be, 
he  never  liked  to  lie  in  the  bed  of  Procrustes.  Another  of 
these  robbers,  named  Sinis,  must  likewise  have  been  a 
very  great  scoundrel.  He  was  in  the  habit  of  flinging 
his  victims  off  a  high  cliff  into  the  sea;  and  in  order 
to  give  him  exactly  his  deserts,  Theseus  tossed  him  off 
the  very  same  place.  But  if  you  will  believe  me,  the  sea 
would  not  pollute  itself  by  receivng  such  a  bad  person 
into  its  bosom,  neither  would  the  earth,  having  once  got 
rid  of  him,  consent  to  take  him  back;  so  that,  between  the 


130  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

cliff  and  the  sea,  Sinis  stuck  fast  in  the  air,  which  was 
forced  to  bear  the  burden  of  his  naughtiness. 

Thus,  by  the  time  he  reached  his  journey's  end, 
Theseus  had  done  many  valiant  feats  with  his  father's 
golden-hilted  sword,  and  had  gained  the  renown  of  being 
one  of  the  bravest  young  men  of  the  day.  His  fame 
traveled  faster  than  he  did,  and  reached  Athens  before 
him.  As  he  entered  the  city,  he  heard  the  inhabitants 
talking  at  the  street  corners  and  saying  that  Hercules 
was  brave,  and  Jason  too,  and  Castor  and  Pollux  like 
wise,  but  that  Theseus,  the  son  of  their  own  king,  would 
turn  out  as  great  a  hero  as  the  best  of  them.  Theseus 
took  longer  strides  on  hearing  this,  and  fancied  him 
self  sure  of  a  magnificent  reception  at  his  father's  court, 
since  he  came  thither  with  Fame  to  blow  her  trumpet 
before  him,  and  cry  to  King  ^Egeus,  "  Behold  your 
son!" 


THESEUS  AND  THE  WITCH  MEDEA 

BY  NATHANIEL  HAWTHORNE 

rpHESEUS  little  suspected,  innocent  youth  that  he 
JL  was,  that  here  in  this  very  Athens,  where  his 
father  reigned,  a  greater  danger  awaited  him  than  any 
which  he  had  encountered  on  the  road.  Yet  this  was 
the  truth.  You  must  understand  that  the  father  of  The 
seus,  though  not  very  old  in  years,  was  almost  worn  out 
with  the  cares  of  government,  and  had  thus  grown  aged 
before  his  time.  His  nephews,  not  expecting  him  to  live 
a  very  great  while,  intended  to  get  all  the  power  of  the 
kingdom  into  their  own  hands.  But  when  they  heard 
that  Theseus  had  arrived  in  Athens,  and  learned  what 
a  gallant  young  man  he  was,  they  saw  that  he  would  not 
be  at  all  the  kind  of  person  to  let  them  steal  away  his 
father's  crown  and  scepter,  which  ought  to  be  his  own 
by  right  of  inheritance.  Thus  these  bad-hearted  nephews 
of  King  ^Egeus,  who  were  the  own  cousins  of  Theseus, 
at  once  became  his  enemies.  A  still  more  dangerous 
enemy  was  Medea,  the  wicked  enchantress;  for  she  was 
now  the  king's  wife,  and  wanted  to  give  the  kingdom  to 
her  son  Medus,  instead  of  letting  it  be  given  to  the  son 
of  yEthra,  whom  she  hated. 

It  so  happened  that  the  king's  nephews  met  Theseus, 
and  found  out  who  he  was,  just  as  he  reached  the  en 
trance  of  the  royal  palace.  With  all  their  evil  designs 
against  him,  they  pretended  to  be  their  cousin's  best 
friends,  and  expressed  great  joy  at  making  his  acquaint- 

131 


132  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

ance.  They  proposed  to  him  that  he  should  come  into 
the  king's  presence  as  a  stranger,  in  order  to  try  whether 
JEgeus  would  discover  in  the  young  man's  features  any 
likeness  either  to  himself  or  his  mother  JEthra,  and  thus 
recognize  him  for  a  son.  Theseus  consented,  for  he 
fancied  that  his  father  would  know  him  in  a  moment,  by 
the  love  that  was  in  his  heart.  But  while  he  waited  at  the 
door,  the  nephews  ran  and  told  King  y£geus  that  a 
young  man  had  arrived  in  Athens,  who,  to  their  certain 
knowledge,  intended  to  put  him  to  death  and  get  pos 
session  of  his  royal  crown. 

"And  he  is  now  waiting  for  admission  to  your  Maj 
esty's  presence,"  added  they. 

"  Aha !  "  cried  the  old  king,  on  hearing  this.  "  Why, 
he  must  be  a  very  wicked  young  fellow,  indeed!  Pray, 
what  would  you  advise  me  to  do  with  him  ?  " 

In  reply  to  this  question,  the  wicked  Medea  put  in 
her  word.  You  have  heard  already  of  this  enchantress, 
and  the  wicked  arts  that  she  practised  upon  men. 
Amongst  a  thousand  other  bad  things,  she  knew  how  to 
prepare  a  poison,  that  was  instantly  fatal  to  whomso 
ever  might  so  much  as  touch  it  with  his  lips. 

So  when  the  king  asked  what  he  should  do  with 
Theseus,  this  naughty  woman  had  an  answer  ready  at  her 
tongue's  end. 

"  Leave  that  to  me,  please  your  Majesty,"  she  replied. 
"  Only  admit  this  evil-minded  young  man  to  your  pres 
ence,  treat  him  civilly,  and  invite  him  to  drink  a  goblet 
of  wine.  Your  Majesty  is  well  aware  that  I  sometimes 
amuse  myself  with  distilling  very  powerful  medicines. 
Here  is  one  of  them  in  this  small  phial.  As  to  what  it 
is  made  of,  that  is  one  of  my  secrets  of  state.  Do  but 
let  me  put  a  single  drop  into  the  goblet,  and  let  the 


Theseus  and  the  Witch  Medea  133 

young  man  taste  it,  and  I  will  answer  for  it,  he  shall 
quite  lay  aside  the  bad  designs  with  which  he  comes 
hither." 

As  she  said  this,  Medea  smiled ;  but,  for  all  her  smiling 
face,  she  meant  nothing  less  than  to  poison  the  poor  inno 
cent  Theseus  before  his  father's  eyes.  And  King  ^Egeus, 
like  most  other  kings,  thought  any  punishment  mild 
enough  for  a  person  who  was  accused  of  plotting 
against  his  life.  He  therefore  made  little  or  no  objection 
to  Medea's  scheme,  and  as  soon  as  the  poisonous  wine 
was  ready,  gave  orders  that  the  young  stranger  should 
be  admitted  into  his  presence.  The  goblet  was  set  on  a 
table  beside  the  king's  throne,  and  a  fly,  meaning  just  to 
sip  a  little  from  the  brim,  immediately  tumbled  into  it, 
dead.  Observing  this,  Medea  looked  round  at  the 
nephews  and  smiled  again. 

When  Theseus  was  ushered  into  the  royal  apartment, 
the  only  object  that  he  seemed  to  behold  was  the  white- 
bearded  old  king.  There  he  sat  on  his  magnificent 
throne,  a  dazzling  crown  on  his  head,  and  a  scepter  in 
his  hand.  His  aspect  was  stately  and  majestic,  although 
his  years  and  infirmities  weighed  heavily  upon  him,  as 
if  each  year  were  a  lump  of  lead  and  each  infirmity  a 
ponderous  stone,  and  all  were  bundled  up  together  and 
laid  upon  his  weary  shoulders.  The  tears,  both  of  joy 
and  sorrow,  sprang  into  the  young  man's  eyes;  for  he 
thought  how  sad  it  was  to  see  his  dear  father  so  infirm, 
and  how  sweet  it  would  be  to  support  him  with  his  own 
youthful  strength,  and  to  cheer  him  up  with  the  alacrity 
of  his  loving  spirit.  When  a  son  takes  his  father  into 
his  warm  heart,  it  renews  the  old  man's  youth  in  a  better 
way  than  by  the  heat  of  Medea's  magic  caldron.  And 
this  was  what  Theseus  resolved  to  do.  He  could  scarcely 


134  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

wait  to  see  whether  King  ^Egeus  would  recognize  him, 
so  eager  was  he  to  throw  himself  into  his  arms. 

Advancing  to  the  foot  of  the  throne,  he  attempted  to 
make  a  little  speech,  which  he  had  been  thinking  about 
as  he  came  up  the  stairs.  But  he  was  almost  choked 
by  a  great  many  tender  feelings  that  gushed  out  of  his 
heart  and  swelled  into  his  throat,  all  struggling  to  find 
utterance  together.  And  therefore,  unless  he  could 
have  laid  his  full,  over-brimming  heart  into  the  king's 
hand,  poor  Theseus  knew  not  what  to  do  or  say.  The 
cunning  Medea  observed  what  was  passing  in  the  young 
man's  mind.  She  was  more  wicked  at  that  moment  than 
ever  she  had  been  before;  for  (and  it  makes  me  tremble 
to  tell  you  of  it)  she  did  her  worst  to  turn  all  this  un 
speakable  love  with  which  Theseus  was  agitated  to  his 
own  ruin  and  destruction. 

"Does  your  Majesty  see  his  confusion?"  she  whis 
pered  in  the  king's  ear.  "  He  is  so  conscious  of  guilt  that 
he  trembles  and  cannot  speak.  The  wretch  lives  too 
long !  Quick ;  Offer  him  the  wine !  " 

Now  King  ^Egeus  had  been  gazing  earnestly  at  the 
young  stranger  as  he  drew  near  the  throne.  There  was 
something,  he  knew  not  what,  either  in  his  white  brow, 
or  in  the  fine  expression  of  his  mouth,  or  in  his  beautiful 
and  tender  eyes,  that  made  him  indistinctly  feel  as  if  he 
had  seen  this  youth  before;  as  if,  indeed,  he  had  trotted 
him  on  his  knee  when  a  baby,  and  had  beheld  him  grow 
ing  to  be  a  stalwart  man,  while  he  himself  grew  old.  But 
Medea  guessed  how  the  king  felt,  and  would  not  suffer 
him  to  yield  to  these  natural  sensibilities,  although  they 
were  the  voice  of  his  deepest  heart,  telling  him,  as 
plainly  as  it  could  speak,  that  here  was  his  dear  son, 
and  yEthra's  son,  coming  to  claim  him  for  a  father. 


Theseus  and  the  Witch  Medea  135 

The  enchantress  again  whispered  in  the  king's  ear,  and 
compelled  him,  by  her  witchcraft,  to  see  everything 
under  a  false  aspect. 

He  made  up  his  mind  therefore  to  let  Theseus  drink 
off  the  poisoned  wine. 

"  Young  man,"  said  he,  "  you  are  welcome !  I  am 
proud  to  show  hospitality  to  so  heroic  a  youth.  Do  me 
the  favor  to  drink  the  contents  of  this  goblet.  It  is 
brimming  over,  as  you  see,  with  delicious  wine,  such  as 
I  bestow  only  on  those  who  are  worthy  of  it!  None  is 
more  worthy  to  quaff  it  than  yourself ! " 

So  saying,  King  ^geus  took  the  golden  goblet 
from  the  table  and  was  about  to  offer  it  to  Theseus. 
But,  partly  through  his  infirmities  and  partly  because  it 
seemed  so  sad  a  thing  to  take  away  this  young  man's 
life,  however  wicked  he  might  be,  and  partly,  no  doubt, 
because  his  heart  was  wiser  than  his  head,  and  quaked 
within  him  at  the  thought  of  what  he  was  going  to  do — 
for  all  these  reasons  the  king's  hand  trembled  so  much 
that  a  great  deal  of  the  wine  slopped  over. 

In  order  to  strengthen  his  purpose,  and  fearing  lest  the 
whole  of  the  precious  poison  should  be  wasted,  one  of 
his  nephews  now  whispered  to  him :  "  Has  your  Maj 
esty  any  doubt  of  this  stranger's  guilt?  There  is  the 
very  sword  with  which  he  meant  to  slay  you.  How 
sharp,  and  bright,  and  terrible  it  is!  Quick! — let  him 
taste  the  wine,  or  perhaps  he  may  do  the  deed  even 
yet." 

At  these  words  ^Egeus  drove  every  thought  and  feel 
ing  out  of  his  breast,  except  the  one  idea  of  how  justly 
the  young  man  deserved  to  be  put  to  death.  He  sat  erect 
on  his  throne,  and  held  out  the  goblet  of  wine  with  a 
steady  hand,  and  bent  on  Theseus  a  frown  of  kingly 


136  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

severity;  for,  after  all,  he  had  too  noble  a  spirit  to  mur 
der  even  a  treacherous  enemy  with  a  deceitful  smile  upon 
his  face. 

"  Drink !  "  said  he,  in  the  stern  tone  with  which  he  was 
wont  to  condemn  a  criminal  to  be  beheaded.  "  You  have 
well  deserved  of  me  such  wine  as  this !  " 

Theseus  held  out  his  hand  to  take  the  wine.  But  be 
fore  he  touched  it,  King  y£geus  trembled  again.  His 
eyes  had  fallen  on  the  gold-hilted  sword  that  hung  at 
the  young  man's  side.  He  drew  back  the  goblet. 

"  That  sword !  "  he  cried.    "  How  came  you  by  it?  " 

"  It  was  my  father's  sword,"  replied  Theseus,  with  a 
tremulous  voice.  "  These  were  his  sandals.  My  dear 
mother  (her  name  is  yEthra)  told  me  his  story  while  I 
was  yet  a  little  child.  But  it  is  only  a  month  since  I  grew 
strong  enough  to  lift  the  heavy  stone  and  take  the  sword 
and  sandals  from  beneath  it  and  come  to  Athens  to  seek 
my  father." 

"  My  son !  my  son !  "  cried  King  yEgeus,  flinging  away 
the  fatal  goblet  and  tottering  down  from  the  throne,  to 
fall  into  the  arms  of  Theseus.  "  Yes,  these  are  ^thra's 
eyes;  it  is  my  son." 

I  have  quite  forgotten  what  became  of  the  king's 
nephews.  But  when  the  wicked  Medea  saw  this  new  turn 
of  affairs  she  hurried  out  of  the  room,  and  going  to  her 
private  chamber,  lost  no  time  in  setting  her  enchant 
ments  at  work.  In  a  few  moments  she  heard  a  great 
noise  of  hissing  snakes  outside  of  the  chamber  window; 
and  behold!  there  was  her  fiery  chariot  and  four  huge 
winged  serpents,  wriggling  and  twisting  in  the  air,  flour 
ishing  their  tails  higher  than  the  top  of  the  palace,  and 
all  ready  to  set  off  on  an  aerial  journey.  Medea  stayed 
only  long  enough  to  take  her  son  with  her,  and  to  steal 


Theseus  and  the  Witch  Medea  137 

the  crown  jewels,  together  with  the  king's  best  robes  and 
whatever  other  valuable  things  she  could  lay  hands  on; 
and  getting  into  the  chariot,  she  whipped  up  the  snakes 
and  ascended  high  over  the  city. 

The  king,  hearing  the  hiss  of  the  serpents,  scrambled 
as  fast  as  he  could  to  the  window  and  bawled  out  to  the 
abominable  enchantress  never  to  come  back.  The  whole 
people  of  Athens  too,  who  had  run  out  of  doors  to  see 
this  wonderful  spectacle,  set  up  a  shout  of  joy  at  the 
prospect  of  getting  rid  of  her.  Medea,  almost  bursting 
with  rage,  uttered  precisely  such  a  hiss  as  one  of  her 
own  snakes,  only  ten  times  more  venomous  and  spiteful ; 
and  glaring  fiercely  out  of  the  blaze  of  the  chariot,  she 
shook  her  hands  over  the  multitude  below,  as  if  she  were 
scattering  a  million  of  curses  among  them.  In  so  doing, 
however,  she  unintentionally  let  fall  about  five  hundred 
diamonds  of  the  first  water,  together  with  a  thousand 
great  pearls  and  two  thousand  emeralds,  rubies,  sapphires, 
opals,  and  topazes,  to  which  she  had  helped  herself  out 
of  the  king's  strong-box.  All  these  came  pelting  down, 
like  a  shower  of  many-colored  hailstones,  upon  the  heads 
of  grown  people  and  children,  who  forthwith  gathered 
them  up  and  carried  them  back  to  the  palace.  But  King 
^Egeus  told  them  that  they  were  welcome  to  the  whole, 
and  to  twice  as  many  more,  if  he  had  them,  for  the 
sake  of  his  delight  at  finding  his  son  and  losing  the 
wicked  Medea.  And,  indeed,  if  you  had  seen  how  hate 
ful  was  her  last  look,  as  the  flaming  chariot  flew  up 
ward,  you  would  not  have  wondered  that  both  king  and 
people  should  think  her  departure  a  good  riddance. 


THESEUS  GOES  TO  SLAY  THE  MINOTAUR 

BY  NATHANIEL  HAWTHORNE 


A^D  now  Prince  Theseus  was  taken  into  great  favor 
by  his  royal  father.  The  old  king  was  never 
weary  of  having  him  sit  beside  him  on  his  throne  (which 
was  quite  wide  enough  for  two),  and  of  hearing  him 
tell  about  his  dear  mother,  and  his  childhood,  and  his 
many  boyish  efforts  to  lift  the  ponderous  stone.  Theseus, 
however,  was  much  too  brave  and  active  a  young  man 
to  be  willing  to  spend  all  his  time  in  relating  things 
which  had  already  happened.  His  ambition  was  to  per 
form  other  and  more  heroic  deeds,  which  should  be  bet 
ter  worth  telling  in  prose  and  verse.  Nor  had  he  been 
long  in  Athens  before  he  caught  and  chained  a  terrible 
mad  bull,  and  made  a  public  show  of  him,  greatly  to  the 
wonder  and  admiration  of  good  King  ^geus  and  his 
subjects.  But  pretty  soon  he  undertook  an  affair  that 
made  all  his  foregone  adventures  seem  like  mere  boy's 
play.  The  occasion  of  it  was  as  follows: 

One  morning,  when  Prince  Theseus  awoke,  he  fancied 
that  he  must  have  had  a  very  sorrowful  dream,  and  that 
it  was  still  running  in  his  mind,  even  now  that  his  eyes 
were  open.  For  it  appeared  as  if  the  air  was  full  of  a 
melancholy  wail;  and  when  he  listened  more  attentively, 
he  could  hear  sobs,  and  groans,  and  screams  of  woe, 
mingled  with  deep,  quiet  sighs,  which  came  from  the 
king's  palace,  and  from  the  streets,  and  from  the  temples, 

138 


page  138] 


THESEUS  GOES  TO   SLAY   THE  MINOTAUR 


Theseus  Goes  to  Slay  the  Minotaur        139 

and  from  every  habitation  in  the  city.  And  all  these 
mournful  noises,  issuing  out  of  thousands  of  separate 
hearts,  united  themselves  into  the  one  great  sound  of 
affliction  which  had  startled  Theseus  from  slumber.  He 
put  on  his  clothes  as  quickly  as  he  could  (not  forgetting 
his  sandals  and  gold-hilted  sword),  and  hastening  to  the 
king,  inquired  what  it  all  meant. 

"  Alas !  my  son,"  quoth  King  ^Egeus,  heaving  a  long 
sigh,  "  here  is  a  very  lamentable  matter  in  hand !  This  is 
the  woefullest  anniversary  in  the  whole  year.  It  is  the 
day  when  we  annually  draw  lots  to  see  which  of  the 
youths  and  maidens  of  Athens  shall  go  to  be  devoured 
by  the  horrible  Minotaur !  " 

"The  Minotaur!"  exclaimed  Prince  Theseus;  and, 
like  a  brave  young  prince  as  he  was,  he  put  his  hand  to 
the  hilt  of  his  sword.  "  What  kind  of  a  monster  may 
that  be?  Is  it  not  possible,  at  the  risk  of  one's  life,  to 
slay  him?" 

But  King  y£geus  shook  his  venerable  head,  and  to 
convince  Theseus  that  it  was  quite  a  hopeless  case,  he 
gave  him  an  explanation  of  the  whole  affair.  It  seems 
that  in  the  island  of  Crete  there  lived  a  certain  dreadful 
monster,  called  a  Minotaur,  which  was  shaped  partly  like 
a  man  and  partly  like  a  bull,  and  was  altogether  such 
a  hideous  sort  of  a  creature  that  it  is  really  disagreeable 
to  think  of  him.  If  he  were  suffered  to  exist  at  all,  it 
should  have  been  on  some  desert  island,  or  in  the  duski 
ness  of  some  deep  cavern,  where  nobody  would  ever  be 
tormented  by  his  abominable  aspect.  But  King  Minos, 
who  reigned  over  Crete,  laid  out  a  vast  deal  of  money 
in  building  a  habitation  for  the  Minotaur,  and  took 
great  care  of  his  health  and  comfort,  merely  for  mis 
chiefs  sake.  A  few  years  before  this  time  there  had  been 


140  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

a  war  between  the  city  of  Athens  and  the  island  of 
Crete,  in  which  the  Athenians  were  beaten,  and  com 
pelled  to  beg  for  peace.  No  peace  could  they  obtain, 
however,  except  on  condition  that  they  should  send 
seven  young  men  and  seven  maidens,  every  year,  to  be 
devoured  by  the  pet  monster  of  the  cruel  King  Minos. 
For  three  years  past  this  grievous  calamity  had  been 
borne.  And  the  sobs,  and  groans,  and  shrieks  with  which 
the  city  was  now  rilled  were  caused  by  the  people's  woe, 
because  the  fatal  day  had  come  again  when  the  fourteen 
victims  were  to  be  chosen  by  lot;  and  the  old  people 
feared  lest  their  sons  or  daughters  might  be  taken,  and 
the  youths  and  damsels  dreaded  lest  they  themselves 
might  be  destined  to  glut  the  ravenous  maw  of  that 
detestable  man-brute. 

But  when  Theseus  heard  the  story,  he  straightened 
himself  up,  so  that  he  seemed  taller  than  ever  before; 
and  as  for  his  face,  it  was  indignant,  despiteful,  bold, 
tender,  and  compassionate,  all  in  one  look. 

"  Let  the  people  of  Athens  this  year  draw  lots 
for  only  six  young  men,  instead  of  seven,"  said  he.  "  I 
will  myself  be  the  seventh ;  and  let  the  Minotaur  devour 
me  if  he  can !  " 

"  Oh,  my  dear  son !  "  cried  King  ^Egeus,  "  why  should 
you  expose  yourself  to  this  horrible  fate?  You  are  a 
royal  prince,  and  have  a  right  to  hold  yourself  above  the 
destinies  of  common  men." 

"  It  is  because  I  am  a  prince,  your  son,  and  the  rightful 
heir  to  your  kingdom,  that  I  freely  take  upon  me  the 
calamity  of  your  subjects,"  answered  Theseus.  "  And 
you,  my  father,  being  king  over  this  people,  and  answer 
able  to  Heaven  for  their  welfare,  are  bound  to  sacrifice 
what  is  dearest  to  you,  rather  than  that  the  son  or 


Theseus  Goes  to  Slay  the  Minotaur        141 

daughter  of  the  poorest  citizen  should  come  to  any 
harm." 

The  old  king  shed  tears,  and  besought  Theseus  not 
to  leave  him  desolate  in  his  old  age,  more  especially  as 
he  had  but  just  begun  to  know  the  happiness  of  posses 
sing  a  good  and  valiant  son.  Theseus,  however,  felt 
that  he  was  in  the  right,  and  therefore  would  not  give 
up  his  resolution.  But  he  assured  his  father  that  he 
did  not  intend  to  be  eateri  up  unresistingly,  like  a  sheep, 
and  that,  if  the  Minotaur  devoured  him,  it  should  not  be 
without  a  battle  for  his  dinner.  And  finally,  since  he 
could  not  help  it,  King  ^Egeus  consented  to  let  him  go. 
So  a  vessel  was  got  ready,  and  rigged  with  black  sails; 
and  Theseus,  with  six  other  young  men  and  seven  tender 
and  beautiful  damsels,  came  down  to  the  harbor  to 
embark.  A  sorrowful  multitude  accompanied  them  to 
the  shore.  There  was  the  poor  old  king,  too,  leaning  on 
his  son's  arm,  and  looking  as  if  his  single  heart  held 
all  the  grief  of  Athens. 

Just  as  Prince  Theseus  was  going  on  board  his  father 
bethought  himself  of  one  last  word  to  say. 

"  My  beloved  son,"  said  he,  grasping  the  prince's  hand, 
"  you  observe  that  the  sails  of  this  vessel  are  black,  as 
indeed  they  ought  to  be,  since  it  goes  upon  a  voyage  of 
sorrow  and  despair.  Now,  being  weighed  down  with 
infirmities,  I  know  not  whether  I  can  survive  till  the  ves 
sel  shall  return.  But  as  long  as  I  do  live,  I  shall  creep 
daily  to  the  top  of  yonder  cliff,  to  watch  if  there  be  a 
sail  upon  the  sea.  And,  dearest  Theseus,  if  by  some 
happy  chance  you  should  escape  the  jaws  of  the  Mino 
taur,  then  tear  down  those  dismal  sails,  and  hoist  others 
that  shall  be  bright  as  the  sunshine.  Beholding  them  on 
the  horizon,  myself  and  all  the  people  will  know  that 


142  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

you  are  coming  back  victorious,  and  will  welcome  you 
with  such  a  festal  uproar  as  Athens  never  heard  before." 

Theseus  promised  that  he  would  do  so.  Then,  going 
on  board,  the  mariners  trimmed  the  vessel's  black  sails  to 
the  wind,  which  blew  faintly  off  the  shore,  being  pretty 
much  made  up  of  the  sighs  that  everybody  kept  pouring 
forth  on  this  melancholy  occasion.  But  by  and  by,  when 
they  got  fairly  out  to  sea,  there  came  a  stiff  breeze  from 
the  north-west,  and  drove  them  along  as  merrily  over  the 
white-capped  waves  as  if  they  had  been  going  on  the 
most  delightful  errand  imaginable.  And  though  it  was 
a  sad  business  enough,  I  rather  question  whether  four 
teen  young  people,  without  any  old  persons  to  keep  them 
in  order,  could  continue  to  spend  the  whole  time  of  the 
voyage  in  being  miserable.  There  had  been  some  few 
dances  upon  the  undulating  deck,  I  suspect,  and  some 
hearty  bursts  of  laughter,  and  other  such  unseasonable 
merriment  among  the  victims,  before  the  high,  blue 
mountains  of  Crete  began  to  show  themselves  among  the 
far-off  clouds.  That  sight,  to  be  sure,  made  them  all  very 
grave  again. 

No  sooner  had  they  entered  the  harbor  than  a  party  of 
the  guards  of  King  Minos  came  down  to  the  waterside 
and  took  charge  of  the  fourteen  young  men  and  damsels. 
Surrounded  by  these  armed  warriors,  Prince  Theseus 
and  his  companions  were  led  to  the  king's  palace  and 
ushered  into  his  presence.  Now  Minos  was  a  stern  and 
pitiless  king.  He  bent  his  shaggy  brows  upon  the  poor 
Athenian  victims.  Any  other  mortal,  beholding  their 
fresh  and  tender  beauty  and  their  innocent  looks,  would 
have  felt  himself  sitting  on  thorns  until  he  had  made 
every  soul  of  them  happy  by  bidding  them  go  free  as  the 
summer  wind.  But  this  immitigable  Minos  cared  only 


Theseus  Goes  to  Slay  the  Minotaur        143 

to  examine  whether  they  were  plump  enough  to  satisfy 
the  Minotaur's  appetite.  For  my  part,  I  wish  he  himself 
had  been  the  only  victim;  and  the  monster  would  have 
found  him  a  pretty  tough  one. 

One  after  another,  King  Minos  called  these  pale, 
frightened  youths  and  sobbing  maidens  to  his  footstool, 
gave  them  each  a  poke  in  the  ribs  with  his  scepter  (to 
try  whether  they  were  in  good  flesh  or  no),  and  dis 
missed  them  with  a  nod  to  his  guards.  But  when  his 
eyes  rested  on  Theseus,  the  king  looked  at  him  more 
attentively,  because  his  face  was  calm  and  grave. 

"  Young  man,"  asked  he,  with  his  stern  voice,  "  are 
you  not  appalled  at  the  certainty  of  being  devoured  by 
this  terrible  Minotaur  ?  " 

"  I  have  offered  my  life  in  a  good  cause,"  answered 
Theseus,  "  and  therefore  I  give  it  freely  and  gladly. 
But  thou,  King  Minos,  art  thou  not  thyself  appalled, 
who,  year  after  year,  hast  perpetrated  this  dreadful 
wrong,  by  giving  seven  innocent  youths  and  as  many 
maidens  to  be  devoured  by  a  monster?  Dost  thou  not 
tremble,  wicked  king,  to  turn  thine  eyes  inward  on  thine 
own  heart?  Sitting  there  on  thy  golden  throne  and  in 
thy  robes  of  majesty,  I  tell  thee  to  thy  face,  King  Minos, 
thou  art  a  more  hideous  monster  than  the  Minotaur 
himself!" 

"Aha!  do  you  think  me  so?"  cried  the  king,  laugh 
ing  in  his  cruel  way.  "  To-morrow,  at  breakfast  time, 
you  shall  have  an  opportunity  of  judging  which  is  the 
greater  monster,  the  Minotaur  or  the  king!  Take  them 
away,  guards ;  and  let  this  free-spoken  youth  be  the 
Minotaur's  first  morsel !  " 


THESEUS  AND  ARIADNE 

BY  NATHANIEL  HAWTHORNE 

NEAR  the  king's  throne  stood  his  daughter  Ariadne. 
She  was  a  beautiful  and  tender-hearted  maiden, 
and  looked  at  these  poor  doomed  captives  with  very 
different  feelings  from  those  of  the  iron-breasted  King 
Minos.  She  really  wept,  indeed,  at  the  idea  of  how  much 
human  happiness  would  be  needlessly  thrown  away  by 
giving  so  many  young  people,  in  the  first  bloom  and  rose- 
blossom  of  their  lives,  to  be  eaten  up  by  a  creature  who, 
no  doubt,  would  have  preferred  a  fat  ox,  or  even  a  large 
pig,  to  the  plumpest  of  them.  And  when  she  beheld 
the  brave-spirited  figure  of  Prince  Theseus  bearing  him 
self  so  calmly  in  his  terrible  peril,  she  grew  a  hundred 
times  more  pitiful  than  before.  As  the  guards  were 
taking  him  away,  she  flung  herself  at  the  king's  feet  and 
besought  him  to  set  all  the  captives  free,  and  especially 
this  one  young  man. 

"  Peace,  foolish  girl !  "  answered  King  Minos.  "  What 
hast  thou  to  do  with  an  affair  like  this?  It  is  a  matter 
of  state  policy,  and  therefore  quite  beyond  thy  weak 
comprehension.  Go  water  thy  flowers,  and  think  no  more 
of  these  Athenian  caitiffs,  whom  the  Minotaur  shall  as 
certainly  eat  up  for  breakfast  as  I  will  eat  a  partridge 
for  my  supper." 

So  saying,  the  king  looked  cruel  enough  to  devour 
Theseus  and  all  the  rest  of  the  captives  himself,  had 
there  been  no  Minotaur  to  save  him  the  trouble.  As  he 

144 


Theseus  and  Ariadne  145 

would  not  hear  another  word  in  their  favor,  the  prison 
ers  were  now  led  away  and  clapped  into  a  dungeon, 
where  the  jailer  advised  them  to  go  to  sleep  as  soon  as 
possible,  because  the  Minotaur  was  in  the  habit  of  calling 
for  breakfast  early.  The  seven  maidens  and  six  young 
men  soon  sobbed  themselves  to  slumber.  But  Theseus 
wras  not  like  them.  He  felt  conscious  that  he  was  wiser 
and  braver  and  stronger  than  his  companions,  and  that 
therefore  he  had  the  responsibility  of  all  their  lives  upon 
him,  and  must  consider  whether  there  was  no  way  to 
save  them,  even  in  this  last  extremity.  So  he  kept  him 
self  awake,  and  paced  to  and  fro  across  the  gloomy  dun 
geon  in  which  they  were  shut  up. 

Just  before  midnight  the  door  was  softly  unbarred,  and 
the  gentle  Ariadne  showed  herself,  with  a  torch  in  her 
hand. 

"  Are  you  awake,  Prince  Theseus  ?  "  she  whispered. 

"Yes,"  answered  Theseus.  "  With  so  little  time  to 
live,  I  do  not  choose  to  waste  any  of  it  in  sleep." 

"  Then  follow  me,"  said  Ariadne,  "  and  tread  softly." 

What  had  become  of  the  jailer  and  the  guards  Theseus 
never  knew.  But  however  that  might  be,  Ariadne  opened 
all  the  doors  and  led  him  forth  from  the  darksome  prison 
into  the  pleasant  moonlight. 

"  Theseus,"  said  the  maiden,  "  you  can  now  get  on 
board  your  vessel  and  sail  away  for  Athens." 

"  No,"  answered  the  young  man ;  "  I  will  never  leave 
Crete  unless  I  can  first  slay  the  Minotaur,  and  save  my 
poor  companions,  and  deliver  Athens  from  this  cruel 
tribute." 

"  I  knew  that  this  would  be  your  resolution,"  said 
Ariadne.  "  Come,  then,  with  me,  brave  Theseus.  Here 
is  your  own  sword  which  the  guards  deprived  you  of. 


146  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

You  will  need  it;  and  pray  Heaven  you  may  use  it 
well." 

Then  she  led  Theseus  along  by  the  hand  until  they 
came  to  a  dark,  shadowy  grove,  where  the  moonlight 
wasted  itself  on  the  tops  of  the  trees,  without  shedding 
hardly  so  much  as  a  glimmering  beam  upon  their  path 
way.  After  going  a  good  way  through  this  obscurity, 
they  reached  a  high  marble  wall,  which  was  overgrown 
with  creeping  plants,  that  made  it  shaggy  with  their 
verdure.  The  wall  seemed  to  have  no  door,  nor  any 
windows,  but  rose  up,  lofty  and  massive  and  mysterious, 
and  was  neither  to  be  clambered  over  nor,  so  far  as 
Theseus  could  perceive,  to  be  passed  through.  Never 
theless,  Ariadne  did  but  press  one  of  her  soft  little 
fingers  against  a  particular  block  of  marble  and,  though 
it  looked  as  solid  as  any  other  part  of  the  wall,  it 
yielded  to  her  touch,  disclosing  an  entrance  just  wide 
enough  to  admit  them.  They  crept  through,  and  the 
marble  stone  swung  back  into  its  place. 

"  We  are  now,"  said  Ariadne,  "  in  the  famous  labyrinth 
which  Daedalus  built  before  he  made  himself  a  pair  of 
wings  and  flew  away  from  our  island  like  a  bird.  That 
Daedalus  was  a  very  cunning  workman,  but  of  all  his 
artful  contrivances  this  labyrinth  is  the  most  wondrous. 
Were  we  to  take  but  a  few  steps  from  the  doorway,  we 
might  wander  about  all  our  lifetime  and  never  find  it 
again.  Yet  in  the  very  center  of  this  labyrinth  is  the  Min 
otaur,  and,  Theseus,  you  must  go  thither  to  seek  him." 

"  But  how  shall  I  ever  find  him?  "  asked  Theseus,  "  if 
the  labyrinth  so  bewilders  me,  as  you  say  it  will  ?  " 

Just  as  he  spoke  they  heard  a  rough  and  very  disagree 
able  roar,  which  greatly  resembled  the  lowing  of  a  fierce 
bull,  but  yet  had  some  sort  of  sound  like  the  human 


Theseus  and  Ariadne  147 

voice.  Theseus  even  fancied  a  rude  articulation  in  it,  as 
if  the  creature  that  uttered  it  were  trying  to  shape  his 
hoarse  breath  into  words.  It  was  at  some  distance,  how 
ever,  and  he  really  could  not  tell  whether  it  sounded  most 
like  a  bull's  roar  or  a  man's  harsh  voice. 

"  That  is  the  Minotaur's  noise."  whispered  Ariadne, 
closely  grasping  the  hand  of  Theseus,  and  pressing  one 
of  her  own  hands  to  her  heart,  which  was  all  in  a  tremble. 
"  You  must  follow  that  sound  through  the  windings  of 
the  labyrinth,  and,  by  and  by,  you  will  find  him.  Stay! 
take  the  end  of  this  silken  string;  I  will  hold  the  other 
end;  and  then,  if  you  win  the  victory,  it  will  lead  you 
again  to  this  spot.  Farewell,  brave  Theseus." 

So  the  young  man  took  the  end  of  the  silken  string  in 
his  left  hand,  and  his  gold-hilted  sword,  ready  drawn 
from  its  scabbard,  in  the  other,  and  trod  boldly  into  the 
inscrutable  labyrinth.  How  this  labyrinth  was  built  is 
more  than  I  can  tell  you,  but  so  cunningly  contrived  a 
mizmaze  was  never  seen  in  the  world  before  nor  since. 
Theseus  had  not  taken  five  steps  before  he  lost  sight  of 
Ariadne;  and  in  five  more  his  head  was  growing  dizzy. 
But  he  still  went  on,  now  creeping  through  a  low  arch, 
now  ascending  a  flight  of  steps,  now  in  one  crooked  pas 
sage,  and  now  in  another,  with  here  a  door  opening 
before  him,  and  there  one  banging  behind,  until  it  really 
seemed  as  if  the  walls  spun  round  and  whirled  him  along 
with  them.  And  all  the  while,  through  these  hollow  ave 
nues,  now  nearer,  now  farther  off  again,  resounded  the 
cry  of  the  Minotaur;  and  the  sound  was  so  fierce,  so 
cruel,  so  ugly,  so  like  a  bull's  roar,  and  withal  so  like  a 
human  voice,  and  yet  like  neither  of  them,  that  the  brave 
heart  of  Theseus  grew  sterner  and  angrier  at  every  step ; 
for  he  felt  it  an  insult  to  the  moon  and  sky,  and  to  our 


148  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

affectionate  and  simple  Mother  Earth,  that  such  a  mon 
ster  should  have  the  audacity  to  exist. 

As  he  passed  onward,  the  clouds  gathered  over  the 
moon,  and  the  labyrinth  grew  so  dusky  that  Theseus  could 
no  longer  discern  the  bewilderment  through  which  he  was 
passing.  He  would  have  felt  quite  lost,  and  utterly  hope 
less  of  ever  again  walking  in  a  straight  path,  if  every 
little  while  he  had  not  been  conscious  of  a  gentle  twitch 
at  the  silken  cord.  Then  he  knew  that  the  tender-hearted 
Ariadne  was  still  holding  the  other  end,  and  that  she  was 
fearing  for  him,  and  hoping  for  him,  and  giving  him  just 
as  much  of  her  sympathy  as  if  she  were  close  by  his  side. 
But  still  he  followed  the  dreadful  roar  of  the  Minotaur, 
which  now  grew  louder  and  louder,  and  finally  so  very 
loud  that  Theseus  fully  expected  to  come  close  upon  him, 
at  every  new  zigzag  and  wriggle  of  the  path.  And  at 
last,  in  an  open  space,  in  the  very  center  of  the  labyrinth, 
he  did  discern  the  hideous  creature. 

Sure  enough,  what  an  ugly  monster  it  was !  Only  his 
horned  head  belonged  to  a  bull;  and  yet,  somehow  or 
other,  he  looked  like  a  bull  all  over,  preposterously  wad 
dling  on  his  hind  legs;  or,  if  you  happened  to  view  him 
in  another  way,  he  seemed  wholly  a  man,  and  all  the  more 
monstrous  for  being  so.  And  there  he  was,  the  wretched 
thing,  with  no  society,  no  companion,  no  kind  of  a  mate, 
living  only  to  do  mischief,  and  incapable  of  knowing  what 
affection  means.  Theseus  hated  him,  and  shuddered  at 
him,  and  yet  could  not  but  be  sensible  of  some  sort  of 
pity;  and  all  the  more,  the  uglier  and  more  detestable 
the  creature  was.  For  he  kept  striding  to  and  fro  in  a 
solitary  frenzy  of  rage,  continually  emitting  a  hoarse  roar, 
which  was  oddly  mixed  up  with  half-shaped  words;  and, 
after  listening  awhile,  Theseus  understood  that  the  Mino- 


Theseus  and  Ariadne  149 

taur  was  saying  to  himself  how  miserable  he  was,  and 
how  hungry,  and  how  he  hated  everybody,  and  how  he 
longed  to  eat  up  the  human  race  alive. 

Was  Theseus  afraid?  By  no  means,  my  dear  auditors. 
What !  a  hero  like  Theseus  afraid !  Not  had  the  Minotaur 
had  twenty  bull  heads  instead  of  one.  Bold  as  he  was, 
however,  I  fancy  that  it  strengthened  his  valiant  heart, 
just  at  this  crisis,  to  feel  a  tremulous  twitch  at  the  silken 
cord,  which  he  was  still  holding  in  his  left  hand.  It 
was  as  if  Ariadne  were  giving  him  all  her  might  and 
courage;  and,  much  as  he  already  had,  and  little  as  she 
had  to  give,  it  made  his  own  seem  twice  as  much.  And 
to  confess  the  honest  truth,  he  needed  the  whole ;  for  now 
the  Minotaur,  turning  suddenly  about,  caught  sight  of 
Theseus,  and  instantly  lowered  his  horribly  sharp  horns, 
exactly  as  a  mad  bull  does  when  he  means  to  rush  against 
an  enemy.  At  the  same  time  he  belched  forth  a  tre 
mendous  roar,  in  which  there  was  something  like  the 
words  of  human  language,  but  all  disjointed  and  shaken 
to  pieces  by  passing  through  the  gullet  of  a  miserably 
enraged  brute. 

Theseus  could  only  guess  what  the  creature  intended  to 
say,  and  that  rather  by  his  gestures  than  his  words;  for 
the  Minotaur's  horns  were  sharper  than  his  wits,  and  of 
a  great  deal  more  service  to  him  than  his  tongue.  But 
probably  this  was  the  sense  of  what  he  uttered : 

"Ah,  wretch  of  a  human  being!  I'll  stick  my  horns 
through  you,  and  toss  you  fifty  feet  high,  and  eat  you 
up  the  moment  you  come  down." 

"  Come  on,  then,  and  try  it !  "  was  all  that  Theseus 
deigned  to  reply;  for  he  was  far  too  magnanimous  to 
assault  his  enemy  with  insolent  language. 

Without  more  words  on  either  side,  there  ensued  the 


150  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

most  awful  fight  between  Theseus  and  the  Minotaur  that 
ever  happened  beneath  the  sun  or  moon.  I  really  know 
not  how  it  might  have  turned  out,  if  the  monster,  in  his 
first  headlong  rush  against  Theseus,  had  not  missed  him, 
by  a  hair's-breadth,  and  broken  one  of  his  horns  short 
off  against  the  stone  wall.  On  this  mishap  he  bellowed 
so  intolerably  that  a  part  of  the  labyrinth  tumbled  down, 
and  all  the  inhabitants  of  Crete  mistook  the  noise  for 
an  uncommonly  heavy  thunder-storm.  Smarting  with 
the  pain,  he  galloped  around  the  open  space  in  so  ridicu 
lous  a  way  that  Theseus  laughed  at  it  long  afterwards, 
though  not  precisely  at  the  moment.  After  this  the  two 
antagonists  stood  valiantly  up  to  one  another,  and  fought 
sword  to  horn,  for  a  long  while.  At  last,  the  Minotaur 
made  a  run  at  Theseus,  grazed  his  left  side  with  his  horn, 
and  flung  him  down;  and  thinking  that  he  had  stabbed 
him  to  the  heart,  he  cut  a  great  caper  in  the  air,  opened 
his  bull  mouth  from  ear  to  ear,  and  prepared  to  snap  his 
head  off.  But  Theseus  by  this  time  had  leaped  up,  and 
caught  the  monster  off  his  guard.  Fetching  a  sword- 
stroke  at  him  with  all  his  force,  he  hit  him  fair  upon  the 
neck,  and  made  his  bull  head  skip  six  yards  from  his 
human  body,  which  fell  down  flat  upon  the  ground. 

So  now  the  battle  was  ended.  Immediately  the  moon 
shone  out  as  brightly  as  if  all  the  troubles  of  the  world, 
and  all  the  wickedness  and  the  ugliness  that  infest  human 
life,  were  past  and  gone  forever.  And  Theseus,  as  he 
leaned  on  his  sword,  taking  breath,  felt  another  twitch 
of  the  silken  cord ;  for  all  through  the  terrible  encounter 
he  had  held  it  fast  in  his  left  hand.  Eager  to  let  Ariadne 
know  of  his  success,  he  followed  the  guidance  of  the 
thread,  and  soon  found  himself  at  the  entrance  of  the 
labyrinth. 


Theseus  and  Ariadne  151 

"  Thou  hast  slain  the  monster,"  cried  Ariadne,  clasping 
her  hands. 

"  Thanks  to  thee,  dear  Ariadne,"  answered  Theseus, 
"  I  return  victorious." 

"  Then,"  said  Ariadne,  "  we  must  quickly  summon  thy 
friends,  and  get  them  and  thyself  on  board  the  vessel 
before  dawn.  If  morning  finds  thee  here,  my  father  will 
avenge  the  Minotaur." 

To  make  my  story  short,  the  poor  captives  were 
awakened,  and  hardly  knowing  whether  it  was  not  a 
joyful  dream,  were  told  of  what  Theseus  had  done,  and 
that  they  must  set  sail  for  Athens  before  daybreak. 
Hastening  down  to  the  vessel,  they  all  clambered  on 
board,  except  Prince  Theseus,  who  lingered  behind  them, 
on  the  strand,  holding  Ariadne's  hand  clasped  in  his  own. 

"  Dear  maiden,"  said  he,  "  thou  wilt  surely  go  with 
us.  Thou  art  too  gentle  and  sweet  a  child  for  such  an 
iron-hearted  father  as  King  Minos.  He  cares  no  more 
for  thee  than  a  granite  rock  cares  for  the  little  flower 
that  grows  in  one  of  its  crevices.  But  my  father,  King 
yEgeus,  and  my  dear  mother,  ^Ethra,  and  all  the  fathers 
and  mothers  in  Athens,  and  all  the  sons  and  daughters 
too,  will  love  and  honor  thee  as  their  benefactress.  Come 
with  us,  then;  for  King  Minos  will  be  very  angry  when 
he  knows  what  thou  hast  done." 

Now,  some  low-minded  people,  who  pretend  to  tell 
the  story  of  Theseus  and  Ariadne,  have  the  face  to  say 
that  this  royal  and  honorable  maiden  did  really  flee  away, 
under  cover  of  the  night,  with  the  young  stranger  whose 
life  she  had  preserved.  They  say,  too,  that  Prince 
Theseus  (who  would  have  died  sooner  than  wrong  the 
meanest  creature  in  the  world)  ungratefully  deserted 
Ariadne  on  a  solitary  island,  where  the  vessel  touched 


152  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

on  its  voyage  to  Athens.  But  had  the  noble  Theseus 
heard  these  falsehoods,  he  would  have  served  their 
slanderous  authors  as  he  served  the  Minotaur!  Here  is 
what  Ariadne  answered,  when  the  brave  Prince  of  Athens 
besought  her  to  accompany  him  : 

"  No,  Theseus,"  the  maiden  said,  pressing  his  hand  and 
then  drawing  back  a  step  or  two,  "  I  cannot  go  with  you. 
My  father  is  old,  and  has  nobody  but  myself  to  love  him. 
Hard  as  you  think  his  heart  is,  it  would  break  to  lose  me. 
At  first  King  Minos  will  be  angry ;  but  he  will  soon  for 
give  his  only  child;  and,  by  and  by,  he  will  rejoice,  I 
know,  that  no  more  youths  and  maidens  must  come  from 
Athens  to  be  devoured  by  the  Minotaur.  I  have  saved 
you,  Theseus,  as  much  for  my  father's  sake  as  for  your 
own.  Farewell !  Heaven  bless  you !  " 

All  this  was  so  true,  and  so  maiden-like,  and  was 
spoken  with  so  sweet  a  dignity,  that  Theseus  would 
have  blushed  to  urge  her  any  longer.  Nothing  remained 
for  him,  therefore,  but  to  bid  Ariadne  an  affectionate 
farewell,  and  go  on  board  the  vessel  and  set  sail. 

In  a  few  moments  the  white  foam  was  boiling  up 
before  their  prow,  as  Prince  Theseus  and  his  companions 
sailed  out  of  the  harbor,  with  a  whistling  breeze  behind 
them. 

On  the  homeward  voyage  the  fourteen  youths  and 
damsels  were  in  excellent  spirits,  as  you  will  easily  sup 
pose.  They  spent  most  of  their  time  in  dancing,  unless 
when  the  sidelong  breeze  made  the  deck  slope  too  much. 
In  due  season  they  came  within  sight  of  the  coast  of 
Attica,  which  was  their  native  country.  But  here,  I 
am  grieved  to  tell  you,  happened  a  sad  misfortune. 

You  will  remember  (what  Theseus  unfortunately  for 
got)  that  his  father,  King  ^Egeus,  had  enjoined  it  upon 


Theseus  and  Ariadne  153 

him  to  hoist  sunshiny  sails,  instead  of  black  ones,  in  case 
he  should  overcome  the  Minotaur,  and  return  victorious. 
In  the  joy  of  their  success,  however,  and  amidst  the 
sports,  dancing,  and  other  merriment  with  which  these 
young  folks  wore  away  the  time,  they  never  once  thought 
whether  their  sails  were  black,  white,  or  rainbow  colored, 
and,  indeed,  left  it  entirely  to  the  mariners  whether  they 
had  any  sails  at  all.  Thus  the  vessel  returned,  like  a 
raven,  with  the  same  sable  wings  that  had  wafted  her 
away.  But  poor  King  yEgeus,  day  after  day,  infirm  as  he 
was,  had  clambered  to  the  summit  of  a  cliff  that  over 
hung  the  sea,  and  there  sat  watching  for  Prince  Theseus, 
homeward  bound;  and  no  sooner  did  he  behold  the  fatal 
blackness  of  the  sails,  than  he  concluded  that  his  dear 
son,  whom  he  loved  so  much,  and  felt  so  proud  of,  had 
been  eaten  by  the  Minotaur.  He  could  not  bear  the 
thought  of  living  any  longer ;  so,  first  flinging  his  crown 
and  scepter  into  the  sea  (useless  baubles  that  they  were  to 
him  now !)  King  JEgeus,  merely  stooped  forward,  and 
fell  headlong  over  the  cliff,  and  was  drowned,  poor  soul, 
in  the  waves  that  foamed  at  its  base! 

This  was  melancholy  news  for  Prince  Theseus,  who, 
when  he  stepped  ashore,  found  himself  king  of  all  the 
country,  whether  he  would  or  no;  and  such  a  turn  of 
fortune  was  enough  to  make  any  young  man  feel  very 
much  out  of  spirits.  However,  he  sent  for  his  dear 
mother  to  Athens,  and,  by  taking  her  advice  in  matters 
of  state,  became  a  very  excellent  monarch,  and  was 
greatly  beloved  by  his  people. 


PARIS  AND  CENONE 

BY  V.   C.  TURNBULL 

"Mournful  (Enone,  wandering  forlorn 
Of  Paris,  once  her  playmate  on  the  hills." 

TENNYSON:  (Enone. 

QUEEN  HECUBA,  wife  of  Priam,  King  of  Troy, 
dreamed  an  evil  dream.  For  in  her  sleep  she 
thought  one  came  to  her  and  said :  "  Behold,  thou  shalt 
bring  forth  a  torch  which  shall  set  thy  palace  afire." 

Not  many  days  afterwards,  therefore,  when  the  Queen 
bore  a  son,  Priam,  to  whom  she  had  told  her  dream, 
ordered  his  slaves  to  destroy  the  child.  But  before  his 
cruel  order  could  be  carried  out,  Hecuba  contrived  to 
steal  away  the  babe  and  place  it  with  certain  shepherds — 
kindly  folk,  who  cared  for  it  as  their  own  child — on 
Mount  Ida,  over  against  the  city  of  Troy.  And  they 
called  the  child  Paris. 

Now  Paris,  though  reared  among  rude  shepherd  folk, 
soon  showed  that  royal  blood  ran  in  his  veins,  and  he 
won  great  praise  from  the  shepherds  for  his  skill  in 
tending  the  sheep  upon  the  mountain,  and  for  the  daring 
with  which  he  pursued  and  slew  the  wild  beasts  who 
sought  to  devour  them. 

So  Paris  grew  to  man's  estate,  and  in  all  the  land  was 
none  fairer  than  he,  or  more  gracious  withal.  No  marvel, 
then,  that  the  mountain  maid  CEnone,  whose  home  was 
in  the  vale  of  Ida,  should  be  smitten  by  his  beauty;  and 
he  loving  her  with  equal  warmth,  they  were  wedded  and 


Paris  and  GEnone  155 

lived  together  in  that  pleasant  land  with  the  happiness  of 
simple  folk. 

Together  they  shared  the  pleasures  of  the  chase,  and 
(Enone  was  not  less  skilled  than  Paris  in  cheering  on 
the  hounds  and  in  spreading  the  nets.  In  quieter  moods 
they  would  wander  together  by  the  river  or  in  the  woods, 
and  Paris  would  carve  their  names  upon  the  gray  boles  of 
the  beeches.  And  on  one  poplar  that  grew  on  the  banks 
of  the  river  Xanthus,  he  carved  these  words: 

"Back  to  its  source  thy  stream  shall  start, 
Ere  Paris  from  CEnone  part." 

But  even  then  the  gods  were  preparing  a  bitter  sorrow 
for  Paris,  for  CEnone,  and  for  countless  generations  of 
mortals  otherwhere. 

Across  the  sea,  in  Thessaly,  a  great  feast  was  being 
held  to  celebrate  the  wedding  of  Peleus  and  Thetis.  And 
because  the  bride  was  no  maiden  born  of  woman,  but 
an  immortal  Nereid,  all  the  gods  and  goddesses  were  bid 
den  to  the  banquet.  All  were  bidden  save  one,  Eris  by 
name,  the  Goddess  of  Strife,  most  hateful  of  the  im 
mortals.  So  she,  full  of  rage  at  the  slight,  cast  on  the 
board  where  all  the  guests  were  feasting  a  golden  apple 
bearing  the  legend  To  the  Fairest. 

Then  ensued,  as  Eris  had  intended,  great  strife  among 
the  goddesses,  and,  in  especial,  Juno,  Minerva,  and 
Venus  claimed  each  the  golden  fruit.  So  the  gods, 
not  willing  themselves  to  settle  the  dispute,  bade  the  three 
goddesses  betake  themselves  to  Mount  Ida,  there  to  seek 
the  judgment  of  Paris  and  to  abide  by  his  decision. 

So  on  a  day  before  the  lowly  bower  of  Paris  and 
CEnone  stood  the  three  great  goddesses.  Naked  they 


156  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

came,  clad  in  celestial  radiance,  as  with  a  garment,  and 
at  their  feet  violets  and  crocuses  pushed  upward  through 
the  grass,  and  hovering  round  them  were  the  peacock  of 
Juno,  the  owl  of  Minerva,  and  the  doves  of  Venus. 

Then  when  Paris  faltered,  not  knowing  which  to 
choose  when  all  were  so  fair,  Juno,  Queen  of  Heaven, 
said :  "  Choose  me,  and  I  will  give  thee  the  kingdoms  of 
the  world." 

Then  Minerva,  the  wise  Virgin  goddess,  said :  "  Choose 
me,  and  I  will  give  thee  wisdom." 

Last  of  all,  Venus,  the  sea-born  Goddess  of  Love, 
whispered :  "  Choose  me,  and  I  will  give  thee  to  wife  the 
fairest  woman  in  Greece." 

Smiling,  she  stretched  forth  her  hand  and  the  golden 
apple  was  hers,  and  the  three  goddesses  vanished  in  a 
cloud,  and  with  them  vanished  all  happiness  from  the 
heart  of  CEnone. 

Not  long  after  this,  Priam,  King  of  Troy,  proposed  a 
contest  in  arms  among  his  sons  and  other  princes,  promis 
ing  to  the  winner  the  finest  bull  on  the  pastures  of  Mount 
Ida.  And  Paris,  grieving  to  see  the  bull  driven  off  by  the 
messengers  of  Priam,  determined  that  he  too  would  strive 
with  the  sons  of  Priam,  whom  as  yet  he  knew  not  for  his 
brothers. 

So  on  the  day  fixed  for  the  contests,  Paris  strove  with 
Priam's  sons  Polites,  Helenus,  and  Deiphobus,  and  with 
other  princes,  and  worsted  them  all.  Yea,  and  he  strove 
also  with  the  strongest  of  the  king's  sons,  great  Hector 
himself,  and  for  him  too  was  he  a  match.  But  Hector, 
enraged,  turned  and  pursued  Paris  as  he  would  kill  him, 
so  that  Paris  fled  to  the  temple  of  Jupiter  for  refuge. 
In  this  temple  he  was  met  by  Cassandra,  the  daughter  of 
Priam,  to  whom  Apollo  had  granted  knowledge  of  things 


Paris  and  GEnone  157 

to  come.  And  marking  in  Paris  the  very  mold  and 
features  of  her  own  brothers,  she  drew  from  him  all  he 
knew  of  his  story.  So,  adding  thereto  of  her  own  knowl 
edge,  Cassandra  knew  that  this  was  indeed  her  brother 
who  was  put  away  while  a  baby,  and  taking  him  by  the 
hand  she  led  him  back  to  the  household  of  Priam  and 
Hecuba,  bidding  all  embrace  their  brother  and  son.  Then 
Priam  and  Hecuba  and  all  their  sons  very  gladly  took 
Paris  to  their  hearts,  for  they  forgot  the  dismal  prophecy 
of  his  birth,  noting  only  his  modest  courtesy,  his  beauty, 
and  his  strength. 

Paris,  therefore,  remained  a  while  in  the  royal  house 
hold,  and  all  made  him  great  cheer.  Yet  was  he  not 
wholly  happy  in  the  palace  of  Priam.  Not,  alas !  that  his 
thoughts  turned  often  to  CEnone  whom  he  had  left  on 
Mount  Ida,  but  evermore  there  sounded  in  his  ears  the 
low  voice  of  Venus,  saying :  "  The  fairest  woman  in 
Greece  shall  be  thy  wife." 

And  Paris  would  muse,  saying  to  himself :  "  Helen, 
wife  of  Menelaus,  King  of  Sparta,  is  the  fairest  of  all 
the  daughters  of  men.  All  the  princes  of  Greece  sought 
her  hand  in  marriage,  and  when  those  who  have  seen 
her  try  to  tell  of  her  beauty,  speech  fails  them,  for  she 
is  more  fair  than  man  can  tell  or  poet  can  sing." 

Then,  pursuing  his  thought,  he  would  ponder :  "  Am 
not  I,  Paris,  no  more  a  shepherd  on  Mount  Ida,  but  now 
a  prince  in  a  royal  palace  and  son  of  the  King  of  Troy? 
Surely  the  word  that  Venus  spake  will  yet  be  fulfilled ! " 

Now  Priam's  sister,  Hesione,  had  been  carried  off  and 
wedded  against  her  will,  and  this  thing  was  a  bitterness 
to  Priam.  So  Paris,  perceiving  this,  set  himself  and  his 
fellows  to  build  and  man  a  fleet,  declaring  that  he  would 
bring  back  Hesione,  but  thinking  in  his  heart  not  of 


158  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

Hesione,  but  of  Helen.  To  obtain  wood  for  his  ships  he 
returned  to  Mount  Ida  to  cut  down  the  tallest  pines  that 
crowned  the  craggy  ledges  where  the  winds  of  the  sea 
sighed  through  the  branches,  as  it  were,  indeed,  the 
soughing  of  another  sea  through  the  melancholy 
tree-tops. 

CEnone  received  her  lord  with  gladness  on  his  return ; 
but  when  she  knew  that  his  thought  was  but  to  fashion 
ships  for  a  voyage,  the  spirit  of  prophecy  came  upon 
her,  and  she  cried  to  him,  as  one  inspired :  "  A  bitter 
thing  is  this  that  thou  doest,  O  Paris,  my  husband !  For 
behold,  thou  farest  to  Greece  to  fetch  hither  the  ruin 
of  thy  country  and  thy  kindred.  Yea,  and  to  me  shalt 
thou  come  at  the  last,  stricken  unto  death,  beseeching 
the  aid  of  my  leechcraft.  ..."  At  this  place  the  gift 
failed  her  as  suddenly  as  it  had  come,  and  she  fell  to 
weeping. 

But  Paris,  kissing  her,  bade  her  put  away  her  fears 
and  look  out  over  the  sea  for  his  return.  And  when  he 
had  fashioned  his  ships  and  rigged  them  with  tall  masts 
and  calked  them  with  pitch,  he  set  sail  across  the  seas, 
leaving  CEnone  to  watch  for  his  homeward  sails. 

Many  days  did  she  sit  upon  a  cliff  that  overlooked  the 
blue  waters,  watching  for  the  ship's  return.  One  night, 
as  in  a  vision,  she  saw,  or  seemed  to  see,  a  white  sail 
on  the  marge,  and  it  sped  before  the  wind  and  passed 
close  beneath  the  cliff  where  she  stood  at  gaze.  And  as 
she  looked  down,  her  heart  turned  sick  within  her ;  for  on 
the  deck  stood  a  lady.  A  daughter  of  the  gods  she 
seemed,  divinely  fair,  and  her  arms  were  round  the  neck 
of  Paris,  while  her  head  lay  upon  his  breast.  And 
CEnone  saw  Paris  spring  to  shore  bearing  this  lady  in 
his  arms;  she  saw  him  lead  her  to  the  city  of  Troy;  she 


Paris  and  QEnone  159 

saw  the  gates  flung  open  and  all  the  people  come  forth 
to  meet  the  pair;  and  she  knew  that  this  was  Helen,  the 
fairest  of  women,  who  had  fled  with  Paris  from  Mene- 
laus,  her  husband.  She  knew,  too,  that  she,  CEnone, 
would  be  left  lonely  till  she  died. 

Now  followed  that  great  siege  of  Troy  of  which  poets 
will  sing  till  the  end  of  time.  For  Menelaus,  the  hus 
band  of  Helen,  and  his  brother  Agamemnon,  the  great 
general,  stirred  up  all  the  princes  of  Greece  who  had  been 
the  suitors  of  Helen  and,  on  her  marriage  with  Menelaus, 
had  bound  themselves  in  a  solemn  league  to  protect  her 
from  all  manner  of  violence.  So  all  the  princes  and  cap 
tains  of  Greece  came  with  a  great  host  and  many  ships, 
and  laid  siege  to  Troy;  and  many  battles  were  fought 
upon  the  plains  outside  the  city  walls.  And  to  CEnone, 
wandering  widowed  upon  Mount  Ida,  the  sound  of  the 
strife  rolled  up,  and  from  afar  she  perceived  the  con 
fused  struggle  of  chariots  and  horses  and  men;  but  she 
heard  and  saw  these  things  as  one  who  marked  them  not, 
for  it  was  as  if  her  heart  had  died,  and  her  life  had 
ended. 

Now  when  the  war  had  lasted  for  a  space  of  years, 
Paris,  although  constantly  protected  by  the  goddess 
Venus,  received  a  wound  from  the  poisoned  arrow  of 
one  Philoctetes.  Then  in  his  anguish  he  remembered  his 
deserted  CEnone,  and  her  great  skill  at  leechcraft,  and  he 
said  to  his  attendants :  "  Carry  me  out  of  the  city  to 
Mount  Ida,  that  I  may  look  once  more  on  the  face  of  my 
wife  GEnone,  and  beseech  her  pardon  for  the  great 
wrong  she  has  endured  at  my  hands.  And  haply,  when 
she  seeth  my  grievous  state,  her  pitiful  heart  will  be 


160  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

moved  with  compassion,  and  she  will  heal  me  with  her 
leechcraft,  for  naught  else  may  avail." 

So  they  carried  Paris  in  a  litter  up  the  slopes  of 
Mount  Ida.  And  CEnone,  seeing  them  approach,  went 
down  swiftly  to  meet  them.  And  Paris,  when  he  saw  her 
coming,  stretched  out  his  arms  a  little  and  let  them  fall, 
for  they  were  very  weak ;  and  CEnone,  uttering  a  lamen 
table  cry,  like  a  bird  who  sees  her  nestling  slain,  flew 
to  meet  his  embrace.  But  in  that  moment  Paris  had 
breathed  his  last.  The  eyes,  once  so  bright,  were  fixed 
in  a  stony  stare,  and  the  dews  of  death  were  on  that 
marble  brow.  Then  CEnone,  forgetting  all  the  wrongs 
she  had  suffered,  remembering  only  the  morning  light 
of  happy  marriage  and  that  he  had  come  back  to  her  at 
the  last,  fell  down  upon  his  breast  embracing  him  and 
bathing  him  with  her  tears.  Then,  crying  aloud  with  a 
great  and  exceeding  bitter  cry,  she  plucked  a  dagger 
from  her  girdle  and  plunged  it  into  her  heart,  falling 
dead  upon  the  breast  which  had  pillowed  her  head  in  other 
years.  So  died  CEnone,  faithful  to  the  faithless,  the  most 
innocent  of  all  who  perished  for  the  sin  of  Paris,  the  son 
of  Priam. 


IPHIGENIA 

BY  MRS.  GUY  E.  LLOYD 

MENELAUS,  brother  of  the  King  of  Mycenae,  had 
for  his  wife  the  most  beautiful  woman  in  the 
world,  whose  name  was  Helen;  but  she  was  stolen  from 
him  by  a  treacherous  guest,  Paris,  the  son  of  Priam, 
King  of  Troy,  who  carried  her  away  with  him  to  his 
home  far  over  the  sea. 

Then  Menelaus,  in  his  anger  and  sorrow,  asked  all 
his  friends  to  help  him  to  bring  back  his  wife,  and  to 
punish  his  treacherous  guest,  and  all  the  chieftains  of 
Greece  came  to  his  aid,  for  Troy  was  a  wondrous 
strong  city,  and  its  walls  had  been  built  by  Neptune,  the 
god  of  the  sea. 

Foremost  of  all  the  chieftains  was  Agamemnon,  King 
of  Mycenae,  the  elder  brother  of  Menelaus ;  he  was  chosen 
to  be  the  head  of  the  whole  array,  and  under  him  served 
Ulysses,  the  wise  king  of  Ithaca,  and  Achilles,  chief  of 
the  Myrmidons,  whom  no  weapon  could  wound  save  in 
the  heel;  and  many  more  of  fame  throughout  the  whole 
world. 

The  fleet  came  together  at  Aulis  in  the  land  of  Boeotia ; 
all  were  ready  and  eager  to  fare  forth  over  the  sea  and 
fight  against  Troy;  and  a  goodly  sight  it  was  to  see  the 
brass-beaked  vessels  and  the  brave  warriors  who  crowded 
thick  upon  them. 

But  day  after  day  passed  by  and  the  fleet  lay  still  in 
harbor,  for  no  breeze  came  to  fill  the  sails.  And  all  the 

161 


1 62  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

chieftains  were  dumfounded,  for  their  valor  was  of  no 
avail,  and  their  hearts  were  heavy  within  them;  for  they 
knew  not  wherefore  their  ships  lay  thus  becalmed, 
and  they  feared  lest  the  immortal  gods  did  not  will  that 
Troy  should  fall. 

At  last  they  sent  for  Calchas,  the  wise  seer,  and  asked 
if  he  could  tell  them  the  will  of  the  gods. 

And  Calchas  made  answer :  "  The  winds  are  withheld 
from  you,  O  chieftains,  by  the  will  of  Diana,  the  huntress 
of  the  woods.  For  King  Agamemnon,  once  on  a  day, 
slew  a  stag  within  her  sacred  grove,  and  ever  since  she 
has  hated  him  sore,  and  therefore  she  will  not  let  you 
sail  till  her  anger  is  appeased  by  rich  offerings." 

Then  said  King  Agamemnon ;  "  Since  mine  is  the  blame, 
let  the  expiation  be  mine  also.  Speak,  Calchas:  what 
offering  will  content  the  goddess,  that  the  winds  may 
come  forth  from  their  prison-house  and  our  ships  spread 
their  sails  and  fare  over  the  sea  to  Troy?  " 

All  hearkened  eagerly,  for  the  face  of  Calchas  was 
dark  and  terrible,  so  that  every  man  feared  to  hear  his 
answer. 

"  The  goddess  asks  of  thee  the  best  and  most  beautiful 
of  all  that  is  thine,"  said  the  stern  seer ;  "  she  asks  the 
life  of  thy  daughter  Iphigenia." 

A  shudder  ran  through  all  who  heard  the  fearful 
words.  Menelaus,  with  a  cry  of  sorrow  and  terror,  came 
close  to  his  brother  and  laid  his  hand  on  his  arm,  and 
Agamemnon  the  king  stood  in  a  tumult  of  agony,  speak 
ing  no  word  for  some  little  space. 

At  length  the  chieftain  looked  round  upon  his  com 
rades,  saying :  "  A  hard  fate  is  upon  me,  ye  leaders  of  the 
Greeks.  For  either  I  must  shed  blood  that  is  dearer  to 
me  than  my  own,  or  else  our  great  array  must  lie  here 


Iphigenia  163 

idle  till  the  ships  are  rotten  or  the  captains  desert  and 
leave  us  stranded." 

Then  said  Menelaus  to  Calchas :  "  Is  there  no  other 
way?  Cannot  the  great  goddess  be  appeased  without 
this  innocent  victim  ?  " 

And  Calchas  made  answer :  "  There  is  no  other  way." 

Agamemnon,  with  bowed  head,  climbed  slowly  to  his 
tent  upon  the  hillside,  and  the  rumor  ran  quickly  through 
the  camp  that  the  wrath  of  Diana  could  only  be  turned 
away  by  the  death  of  the  fair  and  innocent  maiden 
Iphigenia,  the  daughter  of  the  king. 

Then  Agamemnon  despatched  a  guileful  message  to  his 
wife  Clytemnestra,  praying  her  to  send  their  daughter 
Iphigenia  quickly  to  Aulis,  since  Achilles,  the  noble  chief 
of  the  Myrmidons,  had  asked  leave  to  wed  the  maiden, 
and  it  must  be  done  in  haste,  for  the  fleet  was  on  the 
point  of  sailing. 

When  Clytemnestra  heard  her  husband's  message  she 
was  glad  at  heart,  for  the  fame  of  Achilles  was  great, 
and  he  was  brave  and  strong  and  beautiful  as  the  im 
mortal  gods. 

In  haste  was  the  maiden  decked  for  her  wedding  and 
sent  with  the  messengers  of  Agamemnon  to  the  camp  at 
Aulis. 

And  as  Iphigenia  was  led  into  the  camp  she  marveled 
greatly,  for  all  who  looked  upon  her  were  filled  with  pity, 
and  cold  fear  touched  the  heart  of  the  maiden  as  she 
passed  through  the  silent  and  sorrowful  host.  The  war 
riors  were  moved  at  the  sight  of  her  youth  and  innocence ; 
but  no  man  strove  to  save  her  from  her  fate,  for  without 
her  death  all  their  gathering  together  would  be  for 
naught.  Within  the  tent  of  Agamemnon  the  stern  seer 
Calchas  awaited  the  destined  victim.  All  was  prepared 


164  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

for  the  sacrifice,  and  Agamemnon  and  Menelaus  already 
stood  by  the  altar.  In  haste  was  the  maiden  decked  out — 
not  for  her  bridal,  but  for  her  death. 

Then  they  led  her  forth  into  the  sunshine  again,  and 
she  looked  round  upon  the  hillside  and  the  blue  sea 
where  lay  the  idle  ships;  and  when  she  saw  her  father 
standing  by  the  altar  she  would  have  cried  out  to  him  and 
begged  for  mercy,  but  those  who  led  her  laid  their  hands 
upon  her  mouth.  The  poor  child  tried  to  win  from  her 
father  one  pitying  glance,  but  Agamemnon  hid  his  face  in 
his  mantle ;  he  could  not  look  upon  the  face  of  the  child 
who  was  to  be  slain  to  expiate  his  sin.  So  there  was  no 
help  for  the  beautiful  and  innocent  maiden,  and  she  was 
led  to  her  death.  But  so  great  was  the  ruth  of  the  Greeks 
that  no  man  save  the  stern  Calchas  dared  witness  the  ter 
rible  deed;  and  because  they  could  not  bear  to  believe 
afterwards  that  the  maiden  had  indeed  been  slain  there 
upon  the  altar,  the  tale  went  forth  that  at  the  last  moment 
Diana  had  laid  a  hart  upon  the  altar  and  had  borne  the 
maiden  safely  away  to  Tauris. 

But  in  truth  the  cruel  sacrifice  was  completed,  and  even 
as  the  flame  leapt  up  on  the  altar  the  tree-tops  swung 
and  swayed,  and  ripples  coursed  over  the  glassy  surface 
of  the  sea;  the  breeze  for  which  the  host  had  waited  so 
long  had  been  set  free,  and  the  warriors  joyfully  hoisted 
their  sails  and  stood  out  of  the  harbor  of  Aulis  on  their 
way  to  the  siege  of  Troy. 

But  now  was  Diana  well  avenged  for  Agamemnon's 
profanation  of  her  grove.  For,  from  the  innocent  blood 
of  Iphigenia,  uprose  an  avenger,  destined  to  follow  King 
Agamemnon  and  all  his  family  till  the  dark  deed  had  been 
expiated. 

Long  and  grievous  was  the  warfare  before  the  walls  of 


Iphigenia  165 

Troy;  and  it  was  not  till  the  tenth  year  after  his  setting 
forth  that  tidings  came  that  King  Agamemnon  was  on 
his  way  home.  All  through  those  years  his  wife  had 
nourished  the  hope  of  vengeance  in  her  heart,  both  for  the 
death  of  Iphigenia  and  for  the  falsehood  that  had  made 
her  send  the  maiden  to  the  camp.  So  the  king  came  home 
only  to  his  grave.  His  wife  received  him  with  gracious 
words  and  with  every  sign  of  rejoicing;  but  ere  night 
fell  Agamemnon  lay  slain  in  his  bath,  where  the  dagger 
of  Clytemnestra  had  smitten  him  down. 

Next  the  Avenger  of  Blood  put  into  the  heart  of 
Orestes,  son  of  Agamemnon  and  Clytemnestra,  a  great 
hatred  for  the  mother  who  had  slain  his  father.  He  was 
far  from  home  when  the  cruel  deed  was  done,  and  it  was 
long  ere  he  returned ;  but  when  at  last  he  came  he  smote 
his  own  mother  and  slew  her. 

After  this  deed  of  awe  and  terror  the  Avenger  of  Blood 
pursued  Orestes,  and  drove  him,  a  branded  outlaw,  from 
land  to  land.  At  length  he  fled  to  the  sanctuary  of  the 
great  goddess  Minerva,  and  was  at  last  permitted  to 
expiate  his  guilt. 

He  had  to  seek  a  piece  of  land  that  was  not  made  when 
he  killed  his  mother,  so  he  went  to  the  mouth  of  a  river 
where  fresh  soil  was  being  formed  by  the  sand  that  was 
brought  down  by  the  rushing  flood.  And  here  he  was 
allowed  to  purify  himself,  and  the  Avenger  of  Blood 
left  him,  at  last,  at  peace. 


PROTESILAUS 

BY  MRS.  GUY  E.  LLOYD 

PROTESILAUS,  King  of  Thessaly,  was  a  happy  and 
a  fortunate  man.  A  beautiful  and  fertile  kingdom 
was  his,  left  to  him  by  his  father,  the  fleet-footed  Iphicles, 
and  his  wife  Laodamia,  a  fair  and  gracious  queen,  was 
very  dear  to  his  heart. 

But  the  call  of  honor  came,  and  all  Greece  was  arming 
to  revenge  upon  the  false  Paris  the  wrong  he  had  done  to 
his  host  Menelaus  in  carrying  off  his  wife,  the  beauteous 
Helen.  Then  Protesilaus  donned  his  armor  with  the 
rest,  and  forty  goodly  vessels  sailed  from  the  coast  of 
Thessaly,  and  joined  the  assembled  fleet  of  the  Greeks  at 
Aulis  in  Bceotia. 

Sad  was  the  parting  with  the  fair  Queen  Laodamia,  and 
many  bitter  tears  she  wept  when  her  husband's  ships  had 
sailed  away  and  she  was  left  alone.  Her  whole  life  was 
bound  up  in  him,  and  when  he  was  gone  everything  that 
was  left  to  her  seemed  empty  and  worthless.  Often 
would  she  climb  the  rocks  and  look  forth  over  the  sun-lit 
waters  for  hours  dreaming  and  dreaming  of  the  day  when 
Protesilaus  should  come  back  to  her  again  to  reign  over 
his  people  in  peace  and  safety. 

For  many  days  the  Greek  ships  lay  wind-bound  at 
Aulis,  because  their  leader,  King  Agamemnon,  had  of 
fended  the  great  goddess  Diana.  At  length  (as  the  pre 
ceding  story  told)  he  was  forced  to  expiate  his  guilt  by 
the  sacrifice  of  his  innocent  daughter  Iphigenia.  As  soon 

166 


Protesilaus     '  1 67 

as  the  offering  was  completed  the  goddess,  appeased,  let 
loose  the  imprisoned  winds,  and  the  great  fleet  set  sail 
for  Troy. 

Most  of  the  warriors  on  those  bounding  ships  were 
eager  and  happy;  their  waiting  was  over,  the  delight  of 
battle  was  close  before  them. 

But  Protesilaus  was  silent  and  thoughtful;  he  would 
stand  for  hours  on  the  deck  of  his  vessel  looking  down 
upon  the  lines  of  foam  that  it  left  in  its  wake,  and  ever 
his  thoughts  were  the  same. 

He  was  not  mourning  for  his  beloved  wife,  nor  for  the 
happy  home  he  had  left.  He  was  not  sad  to  think  of  all 
the  perils  and  hardships  that  awaited  the  Greeks  at  Troy. 
He  was  thinking  and  thinking  of  the  words  spoken  by  the 
oracle  of  Apollo  at  Delphi.  The  first  man  to  leap  ashore, 
so  the  oracle  had  said,  should  be  slain;  and  even  as  he 
had  first  heard  the  stern  sentence  the  heart  of  Protesilaus 
had  beat  high  with  the  determination  that  he  himself 
would  be  that  man.  He  would  crowd  all  sail  on  his 
swift  ship,  and  waiting  on  the  prow  would  spring  on 
shore  through  the  breakers,  and  so  fulfil  the  will  of  the 
gods. 

All  through  the  voyage  this  one  thought  filled  the  mind 
of  Protesilaus.  He  grieved,  it  is  true,  that  he  should 
never  again  see  his  dearly  loved  wife,  Laodamia,  nor 
the  beautiful  palace  they  had  been  building  for  them 
selves,  wherein  they  had  hoped  to  be  happy  together  for 
many  years,  after  the  war  was  over.  And  sometimes  a 
passionate  regret  would  overcome  the  warrior  when  he 
remembered  that  the  war  must  all  be  fought  out  without 
his  having  any  share  in  the  famous  battles  that  were 
before  his  comrades.  His  brother  would  lead  the  men  of 
Thessaly  to  the  strife,  and  would  return  with  them  in 


1 68  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

triumph  to  their  homes  when,  as  Calchas  had  foretold,  in 
the  tenth  year  the  city  of  King  Priam  should  fall. 

So,  undaunted  in  courage,  steadfast  in  resolution 
though  sad  at  heart,  Protesilaus  sailed  on  to  his  chosen 
fate,  and  even  the  immortal  gods  were  stirred  with  won 
der  and  admiration  when  they  saw  his  ship  shoot  forth 
before  all  the  rest  as  soon  as  the  land  of  Troy  came  in 
sight.  Tall  and  stately  on  the  prow  stood  the  figure  of 
Protesilaus,  clad  in  glittering  armor,  and  with  sword  and 
spear  and  shield  all  ready  for  the  combat.  The  helms 
man  steered  straight  for  a  little  sandy  spit  that  rose 
from  the  water's  edge,  and  Protesilaus  sprang  ashore 
long  before  the  rest  of  the  Greek  array  had  neared  the 
Trojan  strand.  Then  the  words  of  the  oracle  were  ful 
filled.  Some  say  it  was  the  spear  of  Hector,  some  that  of 
^neas  that  struck  the  hero  down.  Foremost  of  all  the 
mighty  army  of  King  Agamemnon  he  fell,  honored  and 
mourned  by  all  his  comrades. 

Queen  Laodamia  waited  impatiently  in  the  peaceful 
land  of  Thessaly,  longing  for  tidings  from  her  lord.  She 
had  heard  of  the  long  waiting  at  Aulis,  she  shuddered 
when  the  words  of  Calchas  were  repeated  to  her ;  in  sight 
of  all  the  host  a  serpent  devoured  first  nine  sucklings  and 
then  the  mother  sow,  and  when  Calchas  saw  it  he  said 
that  this  was  a  sign  that  in  the  tenth  year  the  city  of 
Priam  should  fall  before  the  attacks  of  the  Greeks. 

Ten  years  seemed  a  long,  long  time  to  the  eager  queen 
before  she  should  see  her  dear  lord  home  again.  She 
would  wake  up  suddenly  in  the  night,  and  stare  into  the 
darkness,  thinking  with  terror  of  the  months  and  months 
of  hopeless  waiting  that  lay  before  her. 

Then  tidings  came  to  Thessaly  of  the  sailing  of  the 
fleet,  and  as  men  told  over  the  names  of  the  mighty  heroes 


Protesilaus  169 

who  had  gone  forth  to  fight  with  Agamemnon,  they 
forgot  the  words  of  the  wise  seer  Calchas,  and  hoped  that 
this  brave  array  must  soon  return  in  triumph. 

Not  many  weeks  later  Laodamia  was  seated  at  her 
loom  weaving  a  robe  for  her  warrior  to  wear  on  his 
return  in  triumph  when  there  came  to  her,  white  and 
trembling,  her  favorite  of  all  her  maidens. 

The  queen  looked  up  in  alarm.  "  What  ails  thee, 
child?"  she  asked.  "Why  dost  thou  stand  there  pale 
and  silent  ?  Is  aught  amiss  ?  " 

The  maiden  tried  in  vain  to  frame  words  to  answer. 
Covering  her  face  with  her  hands  she  sank  upon  her 
knees  and  burst  into  tears. 

And  the  queen,  with  a  great  terror  at  her  heart,  went 
forth  into  a  house  full  of  tears  and  lamentations,  for 
the  tidings  had  come,  over  the  sea,  of  the  death  of  the 
noble  Protesilaus. 

Then  Laodamia  went  back  into  her  inner  chamber,  and 
covering  her  head  she  flung  herself  prone  upon  the 
ground,  and  lay  there  all  through  the  day,  while  her 
maidens  wept  and  wailed  without  the  door,  and  none 
dared  enter  or  attempt  to  comfort  her. 

But  at  nightfall  the  queen  arose,  and  passing  from  her 
chamber  to  the  temple,  she  begged  the  priest  to  instruct 
her  what  sacrifice  to  offer  to  the  gods  of  the  world  of 
spirits,  that  they  might  allow  her  but  once  more  to  look 
upon  her  lord. 

Then  the  priest  prepared  in  haste  the  sevenfold  offering 
due  to  the  great  gods  of  the  under-world,  and  told  her 
the  vows  and  prayers  that  she  must  offer,  and  then  left 
her  alone  in  the  temple. 

Then,  standing  erect  and  stretching  her  suppliant  hands 
towards  the  heavens,  the  queen  flung  her  whole  soul  into 


170  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

the  impassioned  entreaty  that  she  might  see  her  dear 
lord  once  again. 

No  door  opened,  no  curtain  was  lifted,  but  on  a  sud 
den  two  forms  appeared  before  the  startled  suppliant. 
One  she  saw  at  once,  by  his  winged  helmet  and  his 
rod  encircled  by  snakes,  must  be  the  swift  messenger  of 
the  gods,  Mercury ;  the  other,  she  recognized  with  a  thrill 
of  terror  and  joy,  was  the  husband  for  a  sight  of  whom 
she  had  just  been  praying  so  earnestly. 

Then  Mercury  touched  Laodamia  with  his  rod,  and  at 
the  touch  all  her  fear  fell  from  her  at  once. 

"  Great  Jupiter  has  heard  thy  prayer,"  said  Mer 
cury.  "  Behold,  thy  husband  is  with  thee  once  more, 
and  he  shall  tarry  with  thee  for  the  space  of  three 
hours." 

Having  thus  spoKen  Mercury  vanished  from  sight, 
and  Protesilaus  and  Laodamia  stood  alone  together. 

Then  the  queen  sprang  forward  and  tried  to  fling  her 
arms  round  her  dear  husband ;  but  though  he  stood  there 
before  her  in  form  and  features  unchanged,  it  was  but  the 
ghost  of  her  lost  lord.  Thrice  she  essayed  to  embrace 
him,  and  thrice  her  arms  clasped  nothing  but  the  empty 
air. 

Then  she  cried  out  in  anguish :  "  Alas !  have  the  gods 
mocked  me  after  all?  Is  this  not  Protesilaus,  then,  who 
seems  to  stand  before  me?" 

Then  the  shade  of  the  warrior  made  answer :  "  Nay, 
dear  wife,  the  gods  do  not  mock  thee,  and  it  is  indeed 
Protesilaus  who  stands  before  thee.  Yet  am  I  no  living 
man;  for  the  oracle  had  foretold  that  the  first  of  the 
Greek  host  to  leap  ashore  should  be  slain ;  therefore,  see 
ing  that  the  immortal  gods  asked  a  life,  I  gave  them  mine, 
and  steering  to  the  shore  before  all  the  other  ships,  I 


Protesilaus  171 

sprang  on  land  the  first  of  all  the  host,  and  fell,  slain  by 
the  spear  of  the  enemy." 

Then  the  queen  made  answer :  "  Noblest  and  best  of 
warriors!  even  the  gods  are  filled  with  admiration  for 
thy  courage,  for  they  have  allowed  thee  to  come  back 
to  thy  wife  and  to  thy  home.  Surely  they  will  go  on  to 
give  thee  even  a  greater  gift.  As  I  look  upon  thee  I  see 
no  change  in  thee;  thou  art  fair  and  young  as  when  we 
said  farewell.  Doubtless  the  gods  will  give  thee  back  to 
me  wholly  again,  and  naught  shall  ever  more  divide  us." 

But  even  as  she  spoke  the  queen  shrank  back  in  dread, 
for  the  face  of  the  vision  changed  and  became  like  that 
of  a  dead  man,  while  Protesilaus  made  answer :  "  Short 
is  my  sojourn  upon  earth,  soon  must  I  leave  thee  again. 
But  be  brave  and  wise,  dear  love ;  give  not  thy  whole  life 
over  unto  mourning,  but  be  patient;  and  though  I  must 
pass  from  thee  now,  some  day  we  shall  meet  once  more ; 
and  though  our  earthly  love  is  ended,  yet  may  we  joy 
for  ever  in  faithful  companionship  one  with  another." 

"  Ah !  wherefore  shouldst  thou  leave  me  ?  "  cried  the 
queen ;  "  the  gods  have  already  wrought  wonders,  why 
should  they  not  give  thee  back  thy  life?  If  thou  goest 
from  me  again,  I  will  follow  thee,  for  I  cannot  stay 
alone." 

Then  Protesilaus  tried  to  soothe  and  calm  his  wife,  that 
she  might  give  up  the  vain  hope  of  living  again  together 
as  they  once  had  done,  and  might  look  forward  instead 
to  a  pure  and  happy  life  beyond  the  grave.  The  gods 
had  already  given  her  much,  he  said,  and  she  ought  to 
strive  to  be  worthy  of  their  mercy,  and  by  her  courage 
and  self-control  win  for  herself  eternal  peace. 

While  her  husband  was  speaking  his  face  lost  its 
ghastly  look,  and  he  seemed  even  more  beautiful  and 


172  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

gracious  than  when  he  was  alive.  And  Laodamia 
watched  him,  and  was  calmed  and  cheered  at  the  sight; 
but  she  hardly  marked  his  words,  so  sure  was  she  that 
the  gods  would  relent  when  the  end  of  the  three  hours 
was  come,  and  would  allow  him  to  stay  with  her  once 
more  a  living  man. 

But  even  while  the  hero  urged  his  wife  to  be  patient 
and  courageous,  even  while  she  looked  for  the  gods  to 
restore  him  to  her,  lo!  the  three  hours  were  past,  and 
Mercury  stood  once  more  within  the  temple. 

Then,  Laodamia  understood  that  her  hopes  were  vain, 
and  that  Protesilaus  was  doomed  to  leave  her.  She 
tried  to  hold  that  dear  form  fast,  but  she  grasped  a 
shadow;  her  empty  ringers  closed  helplessly  as  Protesi 
laus  vanished  from  her  sight. 

With  a  shriek  she  fell  prone  on  the  temple  floor,  and 
the  priests  who  hurried  to  their  queen's  assistance  raised 
a  lifeless  corpse. 

True  to  her  lord,  if  ever  yet  was  wife,  she  had  fol 
lowed  him  to  the  Shades;  yet  alas!  in  death  they  were 
not  reunited.  The  gods  are  just,  and  Laodamia  had  not 
yet  learnt  the  lesson  of  Protesilaus,  that  there  is  a  higher 
and  nobler  thing  even  than  human  love — self-sacrifice 
and  duty.  Therefore  she  is  doomed  for  a  set  time  to 
wander  in  the  Mourning  Fields  apart  from  happy  ghosts, 
till  her  spirit  raised  and  solemnized  by  suffering  is  worthy 
to  meet  her  lord  who  walks  with  the  heroes  of  old  in  the 
dwellings  of  the  blest. 


THE  DEATH  OF  HECTOR 

BY  V.  C.  TURNBULL 

OF  all  the  Trojan  warriors  none  could  be  compared 
with  their  leader,  Hector,  the  son  of  Priam.  Ter 
rible  was  he  in  battle,  as  the  Greeks  had  known  to 
their  cost;  but  within  the  walls  of  Troy  none  was  more 
loved  than  he ;  for  towards  all  he  was  gracious  and  kindly. 
To  Priam  and  Hecuba  a  dutiful  son ;  aye,  even  to  Paris 
and  Helen,  the  guilty  cause  of  unnumbered  woes,  he 
showed  a  brother's  spirit.  But  none  knew  the  depth  of 
his  love  and  gentleness  as  did  his  wife,  Andromache,  and 
their  little  son,  Astyanax.  These,  in  the  pauses  of  the 
strife  around  the  walls  of  Troy,  he  would  seek  out, 
comforting  his  wife  with  tender  words  and  dandling  the 
young  child  in  his  strong  hands.  Such  was  Hector, 
greatest  of  the  Trojans. 

Of  the  Greeks,  the  greatest  in  strength  and  terrible 
might  of  battle  was  Achilles,  son  of  Peleus  and  the 
divine  Thetis.  A  mightier  warrior  was  he  even  than 
Hector  himself,  and  no  man  unaided  of  the  gods  might 
fight  against  him  and  live. 

And  when  Troy  had  been  besieged  for  nine  long  years, 
and  countless  brave  warriors  had  fallen  on  either  side, 
these  two  champions  of  the  Greek  and  Trojan  hosts  met 
face  to  face.  And  this  is  how  they  came  to  fight  and 
how  they  fared. 

Achilles,  in  high  dudgeon  with  King  Agamemnon  over 
what  he  deemed  an  unfair  division  of  spoil,  had  sud- 

173 


174  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

denly  withdrawn  to  his  tent  and  left  the  rest  to  fight  on 
without  his  aid.  But  his  young  comrade  in  arms  and 
dearest  friend,  Patroclus,  the  son  of  Menoetius,  he  at 
length  permitted  to  return  to  the  fight,  arming  him  with 
his  own  armor.  But  him  Hector  slew,  stripping  off  from 
his  body  the  armor  of  Achilles  and  donning  it  him 
self. 

Now,  when  Achilles  heard  that  Patroclus  was  dead,  his 
grief  was  so  terrible  that  he  could  scarce  be  held  from 
laying  hands  on  himself.  But  his  wrath  was  stronger 
than  his  grief,  and  he  swore  to  slay  the  slayer  of  his 
friend.  Therefore,  forgetting  his  old  quarrel,  he  hastened 
to  make  peace  with  Agamemnon.  And  since  his  own 
armor  had  been  taken  by  Hector,  his  mother,  Thetis,  pre 
vailed  upon  Vulcan,  the  god-smith,  to  fashion  him  a 
corslet,  a  helmet,  and  a  mighty  shield  wrought  all  round 
with  strange  devices.  Armed  in  this  panoply  of  the  god 
and  towering  over  the  heads  of  all  the  Greeks,  he  strode 
shouting  into  the  fray. 

And  indeed  the  Greeks  needed  all  the  help  that  he 
could  bring;  for  Hector  had  driven  them  down  to  their 
very  ships,  and  scarcely  had  they  been  able  to  rescue  the 
body  of  Patroclus.  And  now  Hector,  seeing  Achilles, 
would  have  rushed  to  meet  him,  had  not  Apollo  forbade. 
But  the  youngest  and  dearest  of  Priam's  fifty  sons,  dying 
to  flesh  his  maiden  sword  (for  the  fond  father  had 
forbidden  him  to  fight),  sprang  forward  in  his  brother's 
place,  and  fell  transfixed  at  the  first  encounter ;  no  match, 
rash  boy,  for  the  divine  Achilles.  At  this  sight,  not 
Apollo  himself  could  restrain  the  wrath  of  Hector,  who 
bounded  over  the  plain  and,  bestriding  his  brother's 
corpse,  hurled  his  spear.  But  though  his  aim  was  true, 
Minerva  turned  the  spear  aside,  and  when  Achilles 


The  Death  of  Hector  175 

charged,  Hector  too  was  snatched  away  by  his  guardian 
Apollo. 

But  upon  the  other  Trojans  Achilles  fell  with  terrible 
fury.  Many  he  drove  into  the  river  Scamander  that 
flowed  by  the  walls  of  Troy,  slaying  them,  as  a  great 
dolphin  of  the  sea  might  devour  the  small  fishes;  and 
twelve  Trojans  he  took  alive  that  he  might  sacrifice  them 
at  the  funeral  of  his  friend  Patroclus.  None  indeed 
could  stand  before  him,  and  those  who  escaped  his  fury 
fled  back  to  the  city,  where  Priam  had  ordered  the  gate 
to  be  opened  to  receive  the  fugitives. 

At  last  all  were  within  the  walls  save  only  Hector, 
who  stood  by  the  Scaean  gate  alone.  Achilles,  afar  on  the 
plain,  was  hotly  pursuing  one  whom  he  believed  to  be  the 
Trojan  Agenor,  whose  shape,  however,  Apollo  had  taken 
to  draw  Achilles  from  the  walls.  Now,  however,  the 
son  of  Peleus  discovered  his  mistake,  and,  turning,  he 
came  raging  across  the  plain  in  his  glittering  armor  to 
wards  the  Scaean  gate.  And  Hector  stood  and  waited  for 
him  there. 

While  he  waited,  King  Priam,  his  old  father,  many  of 
whose  sons  Achilles  had  already  slain,  came  out  and  en 
treated  him  to  enter  the  city.  And  his  mother  Hecuba 
implored  him,  in  pity  for  her  gray  hairs  not  to  give  bat 
tle  to  Achilles,  but  to  enter  while  there  was  yet  time. 

But  Hector  was  deaf  to  all  prayers.  It  was  foolhardi- 
ness  in  not  ordering  an  earlier  retreat  that  had  brought 
dire  misery  upon  the  Trojans,  and  should  he  enter  the 
city  to  meet  the  reproaches  of  all  ?  No ;  better  stay  there 
single-handed,  either  to  slay  Achilles  or  by  him  be  honor 
ably  slain. 

While  he  thus  pondered  Achilles  was  upon  him,  bran 
dishing  a  great  spear,  his  armor  flashing  like  fire.  And 


176  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

so  terrible  was  the  aspect  of  this  warrior,  larger  than 
mortal  and  clad  in  the  mail  of  Vulcan,  that,  for  the  first 
time,  the  heart  of  even  Hector  failed,  and  he  turned  and 
fled.  Fast  he  fled,  and,  as  a  hawk  chases  a  dove,  Achilles 
pursued.  Past  the  watch-tower  they  ran,  along  the 
wagon-road  about  the  walls,  and  on  to  the  twofold  spring 
of  Scamander.  Thrice  they  ran  round  the  city,  and  in 
Olympus  the  high  gods  looked  down,  and  the  heart  of 
Jupiter  himself  was  moved  to  pity,  and  he  cried  to  the 
other  gods :  "  Shall  we  save  Hector,  or  let  him  fall  by 
the  hand  of  Achilles?" 

Then  Minerva  answered :  "  Wilt  thou,  great  sire,  rescue 
a  man  whom  Fate  has  appointed  to  die?  This  thing  is 
not  well  pleasing  in  our  eyes." 

Jupiter  answered :  "  Fain  would  I  have  it  otherwise, 
but  it  shall  be  as  thou  wilt." 

Then  Minerva  came  down  swiftly  from  Olympus  to 
aid  Achilles.  Nevertheless,  Apollo  was  already  with  the 
two  putting  strength  and  swiftness  into  the  limbs  of 
Hector,  who  sought  always  the  shelter  of  the  towers, 
hoping  that  those  who  stood  upon  them  might  defend 
him  with  their  spears;  but  always  Achilles  would  force 
him  outward,  driving  him  towards  the  plain. 

Now,  for  the  fourth  time,  Achilles  the  pursuer  and 
Hector  the  pursued  had  reached  the  springs  of  Scaman 
der,  and  Jupiter  held  out  the  scales  of  doom,  weighing 
the  fates  of  the  two  men.  And  the  scale  of  Hector  sank, 
and  Apollo  left  him. 

Then  Minerva,  cruelly  deceiving,  bethought  her  by  evil 
guile  to  end  the  fray,  and  took  on  the  shape  of  Hector's 
brother  Deiphobus,  saying,  "  Come,  my  brother,  let  us 
make  a  stand  against  Achilles  and  flee  from  him  no  more.*" 

And  Hector,  suspecting  no  guile,  answered  gratefully : 


The  Death  of  Hector  177 

"  O,  ever  dearest  of  all  my  brothers,  dearer  still  art  thou 
now  to  me,  for  thou  alone  hast  ventured  to  stand  by  my 
side  in  this  perilous  hour." 

Then,  as  Achilles  came  upon  them,  Hector  cried  with 
a  strong  voice :  "  Great  Achilles,  I  fear  thee  now  no  more. 
Only  let  this  be  agreed  between  us:  that  whichever  of 
us  shall  fall,  his  body  shall  not  be  dishonored,  but  shall 
be  given  back  for  burial  rites." 

But  Achilles  scowled  and  answered :  "  No  covenant  be 
there  between  thee  and  me.  Fight !  for  the  time  is  come 
to  pay  the  penalty  for  all  my  comrades  whom  thou  hast 
slain." 

Thus  speaking,  he  hurled  his  spear,  but  Hector  bowed 
his  head  and  the  weapon  passed,  and  touched  him  not. 
And  Hector  wot  not  that  Minerva  had  caught  it  as  it 
flew  and  restored  it  to  Achilles'  hand.  Confident  of  vic 
tory,  he  hurled  his  spear,  striking  the  very  middle  of 
Achilles'  shield.  But  the  handiwork  of  Vulcan  was  proof 
even  against  the  spear  of  Hector.  And  Hector,  perceiv 
ing  this,  turned  to  Deiphobus  for  another  spear.  But 
no  Deiphobus  was  there.  Then,  indeed,  Hector  knew  that 
Minerva  had  deceived  him,  and  that  he  stood  there  god 
forsaken,  a  doomed  man.  He  knew  he  must  perish ;  but 
he  resolved  to  perish  gloriously. 

Drawing,  therefore,  his  great  sword,  he  rushed  upon 
Achilles.  But  ere  he  could  strike  a  blow  the  spear  of 
Achilles  pierced  him  where  the  neck  joins  the  shoulder, 
and  Hector  fell. 

And  Achilles,  triumphing  over  him,  cried  aloud: 
"  Slayer  of  Patroclus,  despoiler  of  his  arms,  the  dogs 
and  vultures  shall  devour  thy  carcase !  " 

But  the  dying  Hector  answered :  "  Nay,  great  Achilles, 
let  not  this  shame  be.  Take  rather  the  ransom  that  my 


178  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

parents  shall  bring  thee,  and  suffer  me  to  be  buried  in 
Troy." 

For  he  knew  that  while  his  body  remained  unburied 
his  spirit  would  know  no  rest  in  the  lower  world. 

But  Achilles,  savage  as  a  wild  beast,  cried  to  him: 
"  No  ransom  shall  buy  back  thy  body ;  no,  nor  shall  thy 
weight  in  gold  save  thy  flesh  from  the  dogs." 

Hector  answered  with  his  last  breath :  "  Oh,  heart  of 
iron!  But  on  thee,  too,  shall  fall  vengeance,  in  that 
day  when  Paris  and  Apollo  shall  slay  thee  by  the  Scsean 
gate." 

With  this  dying  curse  the  spirit  of  Hector  fled. 

Then  Achilles,  stripping  off  the  armor  of  Patroclus, 
pierced  the  ankle  bones  of  the  dead  man,  binding  them 
with  thongs  to  the  chariot,  and  letting  the  head  that  was 
once  so  fair  drag  in  the.  dust.  Thus  dragged  he  Hector 
to  the  ships.  And  Andromache,  beholding  this  from  the 
city  wall,  swooned  as  one  dead. 

And  on  each  following  day  Achilles  dragged  the  body 
of  Hector  round  the  bier  of  Patroclus.  Yet  was  it  not 
in  any  way  defiled,  for  Venus  and  Apollo  preserved  it  in 
all  its  beauty  as  when  Hector  was  alive. 

At  last  Priam  rose  up,  and,  taking  with  him  a  great 
ransom,  drove  unscathed  to  the  Grecian  camp  (for  Mer 
cury  was  his  guide),  and,  falling  on  his  knees  and  kissing 
the  murderous  hands  of  Achilles,  besought  him  to  restore 
the  body  of  Hector.  And  Achilles,  touched  with  ruth 
by  the  old  man's  tears  and  prayers,  consented,  and  him 
self  lifted  the  body  into  the  litter. 

So  Priam  bore  back  his  dead  son  to  Troy.  And  they 
who  so  often  had  gone  forth  to  hail  Hector  returning 
victorious  from  the  field,  now  flocked  round  to  greet 
him  with  tears.  The  first  to  wail  over  him  was  An- 


The  Death  of  Hector  179 

dromache,  his  wife.  Then  came  Hecuba,  his  mother. 
Last  of  all  came  Helen,  who  cried :  "  Never  did  I  hear 
thee  utter  one  bitter  word.  And  if  any  spake  harshly 
to  me,  thou  would'st  check  them  with  thy  kind  and 
gentle  words.  Therefore  I  weep  for  thee,  I,  friendless 
now  in  all  Troy." 

On  the  tenth  day  after  this  the  Trojans  burned  the 
body  of  Hector  on  a  great  pile,  quenching  the  embers 
with  wine.  And  the  ashes  they  laid  in  a  golden  chest 
and  wrapped  it  in  purple  robes  and  laid  it  in  mother 
earth,  and  over  it  they  raised  a  mighty  cairn. 

Thus  did  men  bury  Hector,  captain  of  the  hosts  of 
Troy. 


THE  WOODEN  HORSE 

BY  F.  STORR 

THRICE  three  years  had  passed,  and  it  seemed  to 
the  Greek  leaders  that  they  were  no  nearer  the 
capture  of  Troy  than  when  they  had  first  landed  in  the 
Troad,  a  gallant  company,  fired  with  hope  and  the  prom 
ise  of  an  easy  victory.  Since  then  the  tide  of  battle  had 
ebbed  and  flowed  with  alternate  fortunes.  Many  a  Trojan 
chieftain  had  fallen,  but  no  breach  had  been  made  in  the 
walls,  and  they  seemed  to  have  gained  no  painful  inch. 
There  was  mutiny  in  the  Grecian  host,  and  they  clamored 
to  be  led  home  again. 

But  the  crafty  Ulysses  summoned  the  mutineers  to  an 
assembly,  and  addressed  them  in  honeyed  words :  "  My 
friends,"  he  said,  "  we  have  all  endured  hardships,  I  no 
less  than  you.  Have  patience  yet  a  while.  Have  we 
labored  for  nothing  these  nine  weary  years?  Will  ye 
leave  your  quarry  when  it  is  at  the  last  gasp?  Know  ye 
not  the  prophecy  of  Calchas,  that  in  the  tenth  year,  and 
not  before,  Troy  was  destined  to  fall?  Trust  to  me,  for 
to  me  the  gods  have  revealed  a  cunning  stratagem 
whereby  of  a  surety  ye  shall  take  and  sack  the  city." 
Thus  Ulysses  persuaded  them  to  stay  on,  for  not  only 
was  he  the  most  persuasive  of  orators,  but  none  had 
ever  known  his  wisdom  at  fault. 

Nor  had  they  long  to  wait  for  the  fulfilment  of  his 
promise.  The  very  next  day  came  an  order  that  all  should 
strike  their  tents  and  embark  forthwith.  Before  night- 

180 


The  Wooden  Horse  181 

fall  the  whole  host  had  gathered  on  the  shore;  the 
beached  ships  had  been  hauled  down,  and  away  they 
sailed.  Westward  they  sailed,  but  not  to  Greece.  No 
sooner  were  they  to  the  leeward  of  a  small  rocky  island 
in  the  offing  then  they  tacked,  and  came  to  anchor  in  a 
sandy  cove  well  hidden  from  the  mainland  by  jutting 
cliffs. 

Great  was  the  rejoicing  in  Troy  town  at  their  de 
parture.  The  gates  were  flung  wide  open,  and  the  towns 
folk,  so  long  pent  up  within  the  walls,  streamed  out  as 
for  a  holiday,  to  visit  the  battlefield  and  view  the  spots 
where  so  many  famous  forays  and  single  combats  had 
taken  place.  But  of  all  the  sights  that  attracted  the 
crowd,  the  most  popular  was  a  strange  object  that  no  one 
had  observed  before.  It  was  a  Wooden  Horse  on  rollers, 
in  build  and  shape  not  unlike  one  of  those  toys  that  chil 
dren  love  to  drag  about  by  a  string;  but  this  horse  was 
huge  as  a  mountain,  and  ribbed  with  solid  beams  of  fir. 
Long  and  eagerly  they  debated  for  what  purpose  it  had 
been  built,  and  why  the  Greeks  had  left  it  behind  them. 
Some  were  for  burning  it  as  an  uncanny  thing  that  could 
bode  them  no  good.  Others  cried :  "  Tis  a  votive  offer 
ing  to  Minerva;  let  us  drag  it  within  the  walls  and  set 
it  up  in  the  citadel  as  a  memorial  of  our  deliverance." 

While  this  dispute  was  hotly  raging,  Laocoon,  in  his 
priestly  robes,  rushed  into  the  throng.  "  Fools,"  he  cried, 
"will  ye  let  yourselves  be  cheated?  Are  ye  so  slow  of 
heart  as  not  to  detect  Greek  subtlety  or  the  guile  of 
Ulysses?  The  Greeks,  I  tell  you,  have  not  gone,  and 
either  this  Horse  is  an  engine  of  war  to  overtop  our 
battlements,  or  Greek  warriors  are  hidden  in  its  womb." 
And  as  he  spoke  he  hurled  a  mighty  spear  against  the 
Horse,  and  the  cavernous  depths  reverberated  with  the 


1 82  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

shock,  and  from  within  there  came  a  rattle  as  of  clashing 
arms.  But  the  multitude  heeded  not  the  warning,  for  fate 
had  sealed  their  ears. 

While  this  was  going  on  outside  the  walls,  there  was 
scarcely  less  excitement  in  the  city.  Certain  shepherds 
had  surprised  a  young  Greek,  and  were  dragging  their 
captive  before  King  Priam,  with  a  hooting  and  jeering 
crowd  at  their  heels.  "  Woe  is  me !  "  cried  the  youth  as 
he  came  into  the  king's  presence ;  "  have  I  escaped  from 
the  Greeks,  my  bitter  foes  who  sought  my  life,  only  to 
fall  among  Trojans  from  whom  I  can  expect  no  mercy?  " 
But  the  king  bade  him  fear  nothing,  and  tell  his  tale. 

It  was  an  artful  tale  concocted  for  him  by  Ulysses,  how 
to  the  Greeks,  desirous  of  sailing  home  and  detained  by 
contrary  winds,  an  oracle  had  come — 

"To  speed  you  here  a  virgin  maid  was  slain, 
Blood  must  be  spilt  to  speed  you  home  again"— 

how  he  had  been  pointed  out  by  Calchas  as  the  destined 
victim,  and  had  escaped  even  as  he  was  being  led  in  bonds 
to  the  altar. 

His  tattered  dress  and  bleeding  wrists  bore  out  this 
plausible  tale.  The  king  ordered  his  captors  to  free  him 
from  his  manacles,  and  assuring  the  prisoner  that  he  need 
fear  nothing,  begged  him  to  tell  them  what  was  the 
design  of  the  Greeks  in  building  and  leaving  behind  them 
the  Wooden  Horse. 

Sinon  (for  that  was  the  name  that  the  pretended  de 
serter  took)  first  invoked  on  his  head  the  direst  curses  if 
he  failed  to  reveal  to  his  deliverers  the  whole  truth,  and 
then  repeated  the  lesson  in  which  his  cunning  master 
Ulysses  had  drilled  him.  "  You  must  know,"  he  said, 


The  Wooden  Horse  183 

"  that  all  the  hopes  of  Greece  lay  in  the  favor  and  pro 
tection  of  their  patron  goddess,  Minerva.  But  the  wrath 
of  the  goddess  was  kindled  against  the  host,  for  the  son  of 
Tydeus,  at  the  prompting  of  Ulysses — that  godless  knave 
who  sticks  at  no  crime — had  invaded  her  shrine,  slain 
her  custodians,  and  snatched  therefrom  the  Palladium, 
the  sacred  image  of  the  goddess,  deeming  it  a  charm  that 
would  bring  them  certain  victory.  And  the  goddess 
showed  by  visible  signs  her  displeasure.  In  each  en 
counter  our  forces  were  routed ;  around  the  carven  image 
now  set  up  in  the  camp  lightnings  played,  and  thrice 
amid  the  lightning  and  thunder  the  goddess  herself  was 
seen  with  spear  at  rest  and  flashing  targe.  And  Calchas, 
of  whom  we  sought  counsel  in  our  terror,  bade  us  sail 
back  to  Argos,  and  when  in  her  great  temple  we  had 
shriven  us,  with  happier  auspices  renew  the  fray;  but 
first  in  her  honor  we  must  erect  a  Wooden  Horse,  so  huge 
that  it  could  not  pass  your  gates  or  be  brought  within 
your  walls.  Moreover,  Calchas  told  us  that  if  any  man 
were  rash  enough  to  lay  sacrilegious  hands  on  the  votive 
Horse,  he  would  straightway  be  smitten  by  the  venge 
ful  goddess ! " 

And  lo !  even  as  he  spoke  a  strange  portent  was  seen  to 
confirm  his  words.  Laocoon,  the  high  priest  of  Neptune 
— he  who  had  hurled  his  spear  at  the  Wooden  Horse — 
was  sacrificing  to  the  sea  god  a  mighty  bull  at  the  altar, 
when  far  away  in  the  offing  two  leviathans  of  the  deep 
were  seen  approaching  from  Tenedos.  They  looked  like 
battleships  as  they  plowed  the  waves,  but  as  they  drew 
nearer  you  could  mark  the  blood-beclotted  mane  and 
ravenous  jaws  of  the  sea-serpent,  while  behind  lay  float 
ing  many  a  rood  coil  upon  coil  like  some  huge  boa- 
constrictor's. 


1 84  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

The  crowd  fled  in  terror,  but  the  sea-serpents  passed 
through  the  midst  and  made  straight  for  the  altar  of 
Neptune.  First  they  coiled  themselves  round  the  two 
sons  of  Laocoon,  who  were  ministering  to  their  father  as 
he  sacrificed,  and  squeezed  the  life  out  of  the  miserable 
boys.  Then,  as  Laocoon  rushed  to  release  his  sons  and 
sought  to  pierce  the  scaly  monsters  with  his  sacrificial 
knife,  they  wound  their  folds  twice  about  his  middle 
and  twice  about  his  neck,  and  high  above  his  head  they 
towered  with  blood-shot  eyes  and  triple-forked  tongues. 
And  Laocoon,  like  the  bull  he  had  immolated  at  the 
altar,  bellowed  aloud  in  his  dying  agony.  But  the  sea- 
serpents  slowly  unwound  themselves  and  glided  out  of 
sight  beneath  the  pediment  of  Diana's  statue. 

This  seemed  to  all  a  sign  from  heaven  to  confirm  what 
Sinon  had  told  them.  No  more  doubt  was  possible,  and 
a  universal  clamor  arose :  "  To  the  Horse !  to  the  Horse !  " 
Out  rushed  the  crowd;  ropes  were  fastened  to  its  neck 
and  legs,  and  soon  half  the  city  was  tugging  at  them 
might  and  main,  while  the  sappers  made  a  breach  in  the 
walls  to  let  it  in,  and  by  help  of  levers  and  pulleys  it 
mounted  the  steep  escarpment,  and  as  it  passed  down  the 
street  a  joyous  troop  of  boys  and  girls  followed,  strug 
gling  to  take  hold  of  the  taut  ropes  and  chanting  snatches 
of  paeans  and  songs  of  victory. 

Thus  did  the  gods  send  on  the  Trojans  a  strong  delu 
sion  that  they  should  believe  a  lying  tale;  and  what  ten 
long  campaigns  and  a  thousand  brass-beaked  ships,  what 
all  the  might  of  Agamemnon,  king  of  men,  and  the 
prowess  of  Achilles,  goddess-born,  had  failed  to  accom 
plish,  was  brought  to  pass  by  the  guile  and  craft  of  one 
man. 


THE  SACK  OF  TROY 

BY  F.   STORR 

THE  Wooden  Horse  was  set  up  in  the  citadel,  and 
after  a  night  of  feasting  and  carousal,  the  Trojan 
warriors  had  all  retired  to  rest  from  their  labors,  and 
deep  slumber  sealed  their  weary  eyes,  for  now  they  feared 
no  nightly  alarms,  no  reveille  before  break  of  day. 

But  with  night-fall  the  Greek  fleet  at  Tenedos  had 
loosed  their  moorings,  and  were  making  full  sail  for  the 
Trojan  shore. 

When  all  slept  the  traitor  Sinon  slipped  out  from  the 
turret  of  the  palace  where  the  king  had  assigned  him  a 
lodging,  and  crouching  in  the  shadow  climbed  the  hill  of 
the  citadel.  There  stood  the  Wooden  Horse,  weird  and 
ghostly  in  the  moonlight,  not  a  sentinel  to  guard  it. 
Leaning  on  the  parapet  he  watched  the  white  sails  of  the 
fleet  as  it  sped  landward,  and  soon  he  saw  the  precon 
certed  signal — a  flaming  torch  at  the  masthead  of  the 
admiral  ship.  Then  by  the  ropes  still  left  hanging  from 
the  Horse's  neck,  he  swarmed  up  and  opened  a  secret 
panel  in  the  side.  One  by  one  the  mailed  warriors  let 
themselves  down:  first  Ulysses,  the  arch-plotter,  then 
Neoptolemus,  Achilles'  son,  Menelaus,  Epeos,  the  archi 
tect  of  the  Horse,  and  other  chieftains  too  many  to  name. 
They  made  straight  for  the  city  gates,  and  despatching 
the  sentinels  before  any  had  time  to  give  the  alarm,  let 
in  the  serried  battalions  who  were  waiting  outside. 

Like  the  rest  of  the  Trojan  warriors  ^Eneas  slept,  but 
185 


1 86  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

his  sleep  was  disturbed  by  a  vision  of  the  night.  At  his 
bedside  stood  a  ghostly  form.  His  visage  was  marred, 
his  locks  and  beard  were  clotted  with  gouts  of  blood,  his 
breast  was  slashed  and  scarred,  and  his  feet  were  pierced 
and  livid  with  the  marks  of  cords.  Yet,  though  thus  de 
faced  and  maimed,  ^Eneas  knew  at  once  the  godlike 
Hector,  and  cried  to  him,  "  Light  of  Troy,  our  country's 
hope  and  stay,  thou  com'st  much  looked  for.  Where  hast 
thou  tarried  this  long,  long  while?  Why  is  thy  visage 
thus  marred  ?  What  mean  those  hideous  scars  ?  " 

The  ghost  answered  nothing  but  gazed  down  on  ^Eneas 
with  sad,  lack-luster  eyes.  Only  as  it  vanished  it  spoke. 
"  Fly,  goddess-born ;  save  thyself  from  the  flames.  The 
foe  is  within  the  gates.  Troy  topples  to  its  fall.  Could 
faith  and  courage  have  availed,  this  right  hand  had  saved 
it.  To  thee  Troy  now  commends  her  household  gods. 
Take  them  with  thee  in  thy  flight,  and  with  them  to  guide 
and  guard  thee  found  beyond  the  seas  a  new  and  mightier 
Troy." 

The  ghost  had  vanished;  but  when  yEneas  woke  he 
found  at  his  bedside  the  household  gods  and  the  fillets  of 
Vesta  and  her  fire  that  is  never  quenched. 

From  without  there  came  a  confused  sound  of  hurry 
ing  feet,  the  tramp  of  armed  men,  the  clash  of  arms,  and 
mingled  shouts  and  groans.  He  climbed  to  the  roof  to 
see  what  it  all  meant.  Volumes  of  smoke  like  a  moun 
tain  torrent  were  rolling  over  the  city,  and  from  the  murk 
there  leapt  tongues  of  flame.  In  desperate  haste  he 
donned  his  arms  and  went  forth,  bewildered  and  not 
knowing  which  way  to  turn.  At  his  threshold  he  met 
Panthus,  high  priest  of  Apollo  and  custodian  of  the  cita 
del,  and  asked  him  what  was  happening. 

"  All  is  over,"  cried  the  priest ;  "  the  gods  have  deserted 


The  Sack  of  Troy  187 

us;  Greece  has  triumphed;  Troy  is  no  more — a  name,  a 
city  of  the  past." 

Horror-stricken  but  undeterred,  ^neas  hurried  on  to 
where  the  fray  seemed  the  hottest,  and  gathering  round 
him  some  score  of  trusty  comrades,  he  thus  addressed 
them :  "  Friends  and  brothers  in  arms,  all  is  not  lost ;  let 
us  take  courage  from  despair,  and  at  worst  die  like  men 
with  our  breasts  to  the  foe." 

They  all  rushed  into  the  mellay,  and  at  first  fortune 
favored  the  brave.  Androgeus,  the  captain  of  a  picked 
corps  of  Greeks,  hailed  them ;  and  mistaking  them  in  the 
darkness  for  fellow-countrymen,  twitted  them  on  their 
tardiness,  and  bade  them  hurry  on  to  share  in  the  loot. 
Too  late  he  perceived  his  mistake.  Before  they  had  time 
to  unsheath  a  sword  or  unbuckle  a  shield,  ^Eneas  and  his 
comrades  were  on  them  and  not  one  escaped. 

Flushed  with  their  first  success,  Corcebus,  one  of  the 
forlorn  hope,  cried :  "  Hark  ye,  comrades,  I  have  be 
thought  me  of  a  glorious  stratagem ;  let  us  exchange 
arms  and  scutcheons  with  our  dead  foemen.  All  is  fair 
in  war."  No  sooner  said  than  done;  and  great  was  the 
havoc  they  wrought  at  the  first  by  this  disguise,  but  in  the 
end  it  cost  them  dear. 

As  they  passed  by  the  temple  of  Minerva  they  were 
arrested  by  a  piteous  spectacle.  Cassandra,  the  prophetic 
maid,  was  being  dragged  from  the  altar  by  the  rude  sol 
diery,  her  hair  disheveled,  her  arms  pinioned,  and  her  eyes 
upturned  to  heaven.  Corcebus'  high  spirit  could  not 
brook  the  sight,  and  he  hurled  himself  on  the  ruffians,  the 
rest  following  his  lead.  Though  outnumbered  they  held, 
and  more  than  held,  their  own,  till  from  the  pinnacles  of 
the  temple  a  whole  battery  of  rocks  and  missiles  rained 
down  on  their  devoted  heads.  Their  disguise  had  too  well 


1 88  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

deceived  the  defenders  of  the  temple,  and  soon  the  assail 
ants  were  reinforced  by  the  main  body  of  the  Greeks,  with 
Ajax  and  the  two  Atridae  at  their  head,  who  soon  pene 
trated  their  disguise.  Corcebus  was  the  first  to  fall ;  then 
Ripeus,  the  justest  ruler  in  all  Troy;  nor  did  his  gray 
hairs  and  the  fillet  of  Apollo  that  he  wore  save  Panthus 
from  the  common  fate. 

^Eneas,  with  two  wounded  comrades,  all  that  was  left 
of  that  devoted  band,  made  his  way  to  the  palace  of 
Priam,  where  it  looked  as  if  the  whole  Greek  force  had 
gathered.  Part  were  working  battering-rams  against  the 
solid  masonry,  others  planting  scaling  ladders  against 
the  walls,  up  which  the  boldest,  with  shields  held  high 
above  their  heads,  were  already  swarming,  while  the 
garrison  hurled  down  on  them  stones,  tiles,  whatever 
came  to  hand;  even  the  gilded  beams  of  the  royal 
chambers. 

At  the  rear  of  the  palace  was  a  postern  gate  leading 
to  a  covered  passage  that  connected  the  house  of  Hector 
and  Andromache  with  the  palace.  By  this  y£neas  entered 
and  climbed  to  a  watch-tower  that  commanded  the  whole 
city,  the  plain  with  the  Greek  encampments,  and  beyond, 
the  sea,  now  studded  with  ships.  At  his  bidding  the 
guards  set  to  work,  and  soon,  with  axes  and  crow-bars, 
they  had  loosened  the  foundations  of  the  turret.  It 
tottered,  it  toppled,  and  fell  with  a  mighty  crash,  burying 
hundreds  of  the  besiegers  beneath  its  ruins.  But  what 
were  they  among  so  many  ? 

At  the  main  entrance  of  the  palace  stood  Neoptolemus 
in  his  glittering  armor,  like  a  snake  who  has  lost  its 
winter  weeds,  and  snatching  a  double-headed  ax  from 
a  common  soldier,  he  battered  in  the  panels  and  wrenched 
the  massive  door  from  its  brass  hinges.  Through  the  long 


The  Sack  of  Troy  189 

corridors  and  gilded  ante-chambers,  like  a  river  that  has 
burst  its  dam,  the  flood  of  armed  Greeks  swept  on,  and 
from  the  inner  chambers  there  came  a  long-drawn  wail  of 
women's  voices  that  shivered  to  the  golden  stars.  On 
came  Neoptolemus,  sweeping  before  him  the  feeble  palace 
guards.  The  cedarn  doors  gave  way  like  match-wood, 
and  there,  huddled  on  the  floor  or  clinging  to  the  pillars 
of  the  tapestried  chamber,  he  beheld,  like  sheep  led  to 
the  slaughter,  the  queen  and  the  princesses,  the  fifty 
daughters  and  fifty  daughters-in-law  of  King  Priam. 
But  where  was  Priam  the  while? 

In  the  center  of  the  palace  was  a  court  open  to  the  sky, 
and  in  the  center  of  the  court  was  a  great  altar  over 
shadowed  by  an  immemorial  bay-tree.  Hither  Hecuba 
and  her  kinswomen  had  fled  for  refuge  when  the  rabble 
of  soldiers  burst  in  on  them,  and  in  the  court  she  espied 
her  aged  husband  girt  in  armor  that  ill-fitted  his  shrunken 
limbs,  and  she  called  to  him,  "  What  madness  hath  seized 
thee  thus  to  rush  to  certain  death  ?  Hector  himself  could 
not  save  us  now;  what  can  thy  feeble  arms  avail? 
Take  sanctuary  with  us.  Either  this  altar  shall  protect 
us  or  here  we  shall  all  perish  together !  " 

The  feeble  old  king  yielded  to  his  wife's  entreaties,  but 
hardly  had  he  reached  the  altar  when  he  beheld  Polites, 
the  child  of  his  old  age,  whom  he  loved  most  now  Hector 
was  dead,  limping  towards  them  like  a  wounded  hare,  and 
close  behind  him  in  hot  pursuit  Neoptolemus  with  out 
stretched  lance;  and  a  moment  after  the  son  fell  trans 
fixed  at  his  father's  feet.  "Wretch,"  he  cried,  beside 
himself  with  righteous  wrath,  "  more  fell  than  dire 
Achilles !  He  gave  me  back  my  son's  corpse,  but  thou 
hast  stained  my  gray  hairs  and  god's  altar  with  a  son's 
blood."  He  spake,  and  hurled  at  Neoptolemus  with 


190  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

nerveless  arm  a  spear  that  scarce  had  force  to  pierce  the 
outmost  fold  of  the  targe. 

With  a  scornful  laugh  Neoptolemus  turned  on  him, 
and  dragged  him  by  his  long  white  beard  from  the  altar. 
"  Die,  old  dotard,"  he  cried,  "  and  in  the  shades  be  sure 
thou  tell  my  sire  Achilles  what  a  degenerate  son  is  his." 
So  saying,  he  drove  his  sword  to  the  old  king's  heart. 

"  Such  was  the  end  of  Priam,  such  his  fate, 
To  see  in  death  his  house  all  desolate, 
And  Troy,  whom   erst  a  hundred  states  obeyed, 
A  heap  of  blackened  stones  in  ruin  laid. 
A  headless  corpse  washed  by  the  salt  sea  tide, 
Not  e'en  a  stone  to  show  where  Priam  died." 


THE  DEATH  OF  AJAX 

BY  F.  STORR 

OF  all  the  Greek  knights  who  fought  against  Troy 
the  boldest  and  most  chivalrous  was  Ajax,  son  of 
Telamon.  But  his  fiery  temper  oft  proved  his  bane,  and 
in  the  end  it  led  him  to  ruin  and  death. 

When  Achilles  died  he  left  his  arms  to  be  awarded  by 
the  captains  of  the  host  to  him  whom  they  should  pro 
nounce  the  bravest  of  the  Greeks,  and  the  prize  fell  to 
Ulysses. 

Ajax  took  this  award  in  high  dudgeon,  and,  knowing 
himself  the  better  man,  affirmed  that  this  judgment  could 
have  been  procured  only  by  fraud  and  corruption,  and 
swore  that  he  would  be  avenged  of  his  crafty  rival.  He 
challenged  his  enemy  to  single  combat,  but  Ulysses  was 
too  wary  to  risk  his  life  against  such  a  swordsman,  and 
the  chiefs  who  heard  of  the  quarrel  interfered,  saying  that 
Greek  must  not  take  the  blood  of  Greek.  Thus  balked, 
Ajax  raged  more  furiously,  and  swore  that  if  Ulysses 
would  not  fight  he  would  slay  him  in  his  tent. 

So  Ulysses  went  about  in  fear  of  his  life,  and  he  ap 
pealed  to  his  patron  goddess  to  defend  him.  Minerva  heard 
his  prayer,  and  promised  her  favorite  warrior  that  he 
should  suffer  no  harm.  She  kept  her  word  by  sending 
on  Ajax  a  strong  delusion,  whereby  in  his  frenzy  he  mis 
took  beasts  for  men. 

The  Greeks  found  the  herds  and  flocks  that  had  been 
taken  in  raids,  and  were  kept  in  pound  as  a  common  stock 

191 


192  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

to  feed  the  army,  hacked  and  hewn  in  the  night,  as 
though  a  mountain  lion  had  been  ravaging  them;  and 
they  suspected  Ajax,  whose  strange  behavior  none  could 
fail  to  notice,  as  the  offender,  but  they  had  no  certain 
proof,  and  Ulysses,  the  man  of  many  wiles,  was  by  com 
mon  consent  deputed  to  search  into  the  matter. 

So  the  next  night  he  stole  forth  from  the  camp  alone, 
and  in  the  early  light  of  dawn  he  espied  a  solitary  figure 
hurrying  over  the  plain,  and  he  followed  the  trail  like 
a  bloodhound  till  it  led  him  to  the  tent  of  Ajax. 

He  paused  uncertain,  for  he  dared  not  venture  farther, 
and  was  about  to  return  and  report  to  the  commanders 
what  he  had  seen,  when  he  heard  a  voice  saying,  "  Ulysses, 
what  dost  thou  here  ?  "  and  he  knew  it  could  be  none  other 
than  the  voice  of  his  own  goddess  Minerva. 

He  told  her  the  case  and  craved  her  aid  in  his  per 
plexity,  and  the  goddess  gently  upbraided  him.  "  Thou 
wert  no  coward  soul,  Ulysses,  when  I  chose  thee  as  my 
favored  knight,  and  now  dost  thou  fear  a  single  un 
armed  man,  and  one  by  me  bereft  of  his  wits?"  And 
Ulysses  answered,  "  Goddess,  I  am  no  coward,  but  the 
bravest  may  quail  before  a  raving  madman."  But  Mi 
nerva  replied,  "  Be  of  good  heart,  and  trust  as  ever  to 
me.  Lo,  I  will  show  thee  a  sight  whereon  thou  mayst 
glut  thine  eyes."  Thereupon  she  opened  the  flap  of  the 
tent,  and  within  stood  Ajax,  wild  and  haggard,  his  hands 
dripping  with  gore,  and  all  around  him  were  sheep  and 
oxen,  some  beheaded,  some  ripped  up,  and  some  horribly 
mutilated — a  very  shambles.  At  the  moment  Ajax  was 
belaboring  a  huge  ram  that  he  had  strapped  up  to  a 
pillar  of  the  tent,  and,  as  each  blow  of  the  double  thong 
descended  he  shouted,  "  Take  that,  Ulysses ;  that's  for 
thy  knavery,  that  for  thy  villainy,  that  for  thy  lies,  thou 


The  Death  of  Ajax  193 

white-livered  rogue."  Ulysses  could  not  but  smile  as  he 
saw  himself  scourged  and  cursed  in  effigy,  but  he  was 
touched  by  a  thought  of  human  infirmity  and  the  ruin  of 
a  noble  soul,  and  he  prayed  the  goddess  to  avert  from 
him  such  a  calamity. 

In  the  women's  tent  hard  by  sat  Tecmessa,  the  captive 
wife  of  Ajax,  weeping  and  wringing  her  hands.  His 
tender  love  had  made  her  forget  her  desolate  home  and 
slaughtered  brethren,  and  she  had  borne  him  a  son,  the 
pride  and  joy  of  both  parents.  But  ever  since  he  had 
lost  the  prize  for  bravery  she  had  noted  a  growing 
estrangement.  He  avoided  her,  meeting  her  advances 
with  cold  looks,  and  the  night  before,  when  she  asked  him 
why  he  was  girding  on  his  armor  at  that  hour,  he  had 
answered  her,  "  Silence,  woman ;  women  should  be  seen, 
not  heard."  And  then  he  had  gone  forth  and  returned 
with  these  beeves  and  sheep  that  he  was  now  hacking  to 
pieces  like  a  madman.  Their  boy  she  had  sent  away  with 
his  nurse  to  be  out  of  harm's  way,  and  she  sat  cowering 
in  her  tent. 

As  she  sat,  half  dazed  with  grief  and  watching,  she 
heard  her  name  called.  Trembling  she  arose  and  met  her 
lord  at  the  tent  door.  Again  he  called  her,  but  now  his 
voice  was  tender  and  low,  and  he  gazed  at  her  with  a  look 
of  mingled  pity  and  love.  And  her  heart  rejoiced,  for  she 
saw  that  his  madness  had  passed,  that  her  old  Ajax 
was  restored  to  her.  "  Tecmessa,"  he  asked,  "  where  is 
our  boy  ?  "  And  Tecmessa  hastened  and  brought  back 
their  child  Eurysaces.  Ajax  took  him  from  his  nurse's 
arms,  and  he  kissed  the  innocent  brow  and  spoke :  "  My 
boy,  may  thy  lot  in  life  be  happier  than  thy  father's ;  but 
in  all  else  be  like  unto  me,  and  thou  shalt  prove  no  base 
man."  Then  he  passed  with  Tecmessa  into  her  tent,  and 


194  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

flung  himself  down  on  the  bed  and  lay  there  as  a  sick 
man  who  has  scarce  recovered  from  a  grievous  illness. 
She  would  fain  have  ministered  to  him,  but  he  refused 
all  meat  and  drink,  and  lay  for  long  hours  holding  her 
hand.  Ever  and  anon  he  would  ask,  "  Where  is  Teucer? 
Is  not  Teucer  returned?  I  would  fain  speak  with  my 
brother." 

As  the  sun  was  setting  he  rose  from  his  bed  and  took 
his  sword,  telling  his  wife  that  he  must  leave  her  for  a 
while,  but  would  soon  return.  She,  fearing  another  fit 
of  madness,  sought  with  tears  to  detain  him,  but  he 
gently  put  her  aside  and  told  her  what  his  errand  was. 
He  must  needs  go  to  the  sea-baths,  and  with  pure  ablu 
tion  wash  away  his  stains  and  make  him  clean.  And  he 
gently  unwound  her  clinging  arms,  closed  her  lips  with  a 
kiss,  and  went  on  his  way. 

When  he  reached  the  river,  he  drew  his  sword  from 
the  scabbard  and  planted  it  firm  in  earth.  "  Fatal  blade," 
he  cried,  "  once  the  sword  of  Hector,  then  a  foeman's 
gift  to  his  arch-enemy,  a  bane  to  each  who  owned  thee; 
but  to  me,  thy  last  master,  a  friend  at  need.  I  have  had 
my  day,  and  for  me  there  is  living  none.  My  sword,  go 
with  me  to  the  shades."  Therewith  he  hurled  himself 
upon  the  naked  steel  and  gave  up  the  ghost. 

Fishermen  dragging  their  nets  at  dawn  found  the  body, 
and  brought  it  back  to  camp.  Teucer,  warned  by  the  seer 
Calchas  that  unless  his  brother  could  be  kept  within  doors 
for  that  day  some  dread  calamity  awaited  him,  had  hur 
ried  to  warn  and  save  him  from  his  doom;  but  as  he 
reached  the  tent  he  was  met  by  the  bearers  bringing  home 
his  brother's  corpse. 

There  was  mourning  in  the  Grecian  camp.  A  great 
man  had  fallen  that  day ;  for  his  brief  madness  the  gods 


The  Death  of  Ajax  195 

alone  were  to  blame;  and  his  long  years  of  service,  his 
gallant  deeds,  his  fearless  courage,  his  noble  generosity, 
were  alone  remembered.  So  they  decreed  for  him  a 
public  funeral  with  all  the  pomp  and  ceremony  that  be 
fitted  a  great  chieftain. 

Already  they  had  begun  to  raise  a  huge  funeral  pile 
and  to  deck  the  sacrificial  altar,  when  Menelaus,  who 
shared  with  Agamemnon  the  chief  command,  rode  up  in 
hot  haste  to  forbid  the  public  burial.  "  No  man,"  he 
declared,  "  who  had  defied  his  authority  and  done  such 
injury  to  the  common  cause  should  be  honored."  But 
Ulysses  with  a  soft  answer  turned  away  his  wrath : 
"  True,  he  hath  sinned  against  thee,  O  king,  and  in  life 
he  hated  me,  but  death  is  the  great  atoner.  Honor  the 
fearless  knight.  Let  his  ashes  rest  in  peace." 


THE  FLIGHT  OF  JENEAS  FROM  TROY 

BY  F.  STORR 

/TINEAS,  standing  on  the  battlements  of  the  palace, 
JL\-J  had  beheld  the  heartrending  scene  of  Troy's  de 
struction,  horror-stricken  and  unable  to  help.  All  his 
comrades  were  dead  or  had  fled,  and  he  alone  was  left. 
As  he  looked  on  Priam's  bleeding  corse  the  face  of  his 
own  father  Anchises,  as  old  and  as  defenseless,  flashed 
across  his  fancy,  and  he  saw  in  vision  his  desolate  home, 
his  wife  Creusa,  and  lulus  clinging  to  his  mother's  knees. 
He  stole  out  of  the  palace  by  the  same  covered  way  that 
had  let  him  in,  and  was  hurrying  home  when  he  passed 
the  shrine  of  Vesta,  and  cowering  behind  the  altar,  by  the 
glare  of  the  conflagration  that  still  raged,  he  espied 
Helen,  the  prime  cause  of  all  their  woes.  His  soul  burned 
with  righteous  indignation.  "  What,"  he  cried  to  him 
self,  "  shall  this  cursed  woman,  the  bane  both  of  Greece 
and  of  Troy,  shall  she  alone  escape  scot-free;  shall  she 
return  to  Greece  a  crowned  queen  with  our  captive  sons 
and  daughters  in  her  train?  No,"  he  cried,  as  he  drew 
his  sword ;  "  to  slay  a  woman  is  no  knightly  deed,  but 
men  will  approve  me  as  the  minister  of  God's  ven 
geance." 

But  of  a  sudden,  effulgent  in  the  heavens  like  her  own 
star,  he  beheld  his  goddess-mother,  and  she  laid  a  hand 
on  his  outstretched  arm  in  act  to  strike,  and  whispered 
in  his  ear :  "  My  son,  why  this  empty  rage  ?  Dost  thou 

196 


The  Flight  of  ^Eneas  from  Troy          197 

forget  thy  mother  and  all  her  care  for  thee  and  thine? 
Think  of  thine  aged  sire,  thy  loving  wife,  thy  little  son. 
But  for  me  they  had  all  perished  by  the  sword  and  flames. 
'Tis  not  Paris,  'tis  not  that  Spartan  woman  who  hath 
wrought  this  ruin,  but  the  gods  who  were  leagued  against 
Troy.  Lo,  I  will  take  the  scales  from  thine  eyes,  and  for 
a  moment  thou  shalt  behold  as  one  of  themselves  the  im 
mortals  at  work.  Look  yonder,  where  walls  and  watch- 
towers  are  crashing  down,  as  though  upheaved  by  an 
earthquake,  Neptune  is  up-prizing  with  his  dread  trident 
the  walls  that  he  helped  to  build.  There  at  the  Scaean 
gates  stands  Juno  in  full  mail  crying  Havoc !  and  hound 
ing  on  the  laggard  Greeks.  Look  backward  at  the  cita 
del  ;  above  it  towers  Minerva,  wrapt  in  a  storm-cloud,  and 
flashing  her  Gorgon  shield.  Nay  more,  on  far  Olympus 
(but  this  thou  canst  not  see)  the  Almighty  Father  is 
heartening  those  gods  who  are  banded  for  the  ruin,  of 
Troy.  Save  thyself,  my  son,  while  yet  there  is  time. 
Let  adverse  gods  rage;  I,  thy  mother,  will  never  leave 
thee  nor  forsake  thee." 

The  goddess  vanished,  and  as  by  a  flash  of  lightning  he 
beheld  for  an  instant  the  grim  visages  of  the  Powers  of 
Darkness. 

Under  the  tutelage  of  Venus,  ^Eneas  reached  his  home 
without  adventure  and  found  all  safe,  as  she  had  prom 
ised.  He  was  preparing  for  his  flight  to  the  neighboring 
hills  when  an  unforeseen  impediment  arose.  No  per 
suasions  would  induce  Anchises  to  accompany  him. 
"  Ye  are  young  and  lusty,"  cried  his  sire,  "  fly  for  your 
lives  and  leave  me,  a  poor  old  man  tottering  on  the 
brink  of  the  grave.  All  I  ask  is  that  ye  repeat  over  me 
the  ritual  for  the  dead.  The  Greeks,  when  they  find  me, 
will  grant  me  sepulture." 


198  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

No  prayers  or  arguments  could  move  the  old  man  from 
his  obstinate  resolution,  and  yEneas,  in  desperation,  was 
again  girding  on  his  armor,  choosing  to  perish  with  wife 
and  child  in  single-handed  fight  rather  than  desert  his 
aged  parent,  when  a  sign  from  heaven  was  given  that 
first  amazed  and  then  filled  all  hearts  with  joy.  On  the 
head  of  the  child  lulus  there  appeared  a  tongue  of  fire 
that  spread  among  his  curly  locks,  and  played  round  his 
smooth  brow,  crowning  him  like  the  aureole  of  a  saint. 
In  horror  his  mother  sought  to  extinguish  the  flames, 
but  the  water  she  poured  made  them  only  burn  the 
brighter.  But  Anchises  knew  the  heavenly  sign,  and  with 
uplifted  palms  he  prayed  that  Jupiter  would  confirm  his 
good  will  by  some  more  certain  augury.  And  straight 
way  on  the  left  (the  lucky  side)  a  clap  of  thunder  was 
heard,  and  from  the  zenith  there  fell  a  meteor  that  left 
a  long  trail  of  light  as  it  fell  to  earth  on  the  pine-clad 
slopes  of  Mount  Ida. 

Then  at  last  Anchises  yielded,  and  yEneas,  stooping 
down,  lifted  the  old  man  on  his  shoulder.  By  his  side, 
holding  his  right  hand,  was  lulus,  bravely  trying  to  keep 
pace  with  his  father's  long  strides,  and  last  came  Creusa, 
with  a  train  of  household  slaves.  As  trysting-place,  in 
case  they  should  get  separated  in  the  crowd  and  con 
fusion,  yEneas  assigned  to  them  a  deserted  shrine  of 
Vesta,  near  to  a  solitary  cypress  tree  which  would  serve 
them  as  a  landmark.  They  were  well  on  their  way,  and 
had  escaped  the  worst  perils,  when  Anchises  cried  out, 
"  Hist !  I  hear  the  tramp  of  armed  men,  and  see  the 
glint  of  armor."  And  yEneas,  who  never  before  had 
quailed  in  the  storm  of  battle,  now  trembled  like  an  aspen 
leaf,  and  snatching  up  the  boy  he  ran  for  his  life,  and 
never  drew  breath  till  he  had  reached  the  deserted  shrine. 


The  Flight  of  ^Eneas  from  Troy          199 

Then  he  looked  back,  and  to  his  horror  Creusa  was  no 
where  to  be  seen.  Had  she  missed  the  road,  or  had  she 
fainted  on  the  way?  He  questioned  his  household  who 
had  by  now  arrived,  but  none  had  seen  their  mistress  since 
they  left  the  city.  Again  he  donned  his  arms  and  rushed 
back  by  the  way  he  had  come.  Not  a  trace  of  his  wife 
could  he  find.  He  re-entered  the  city  by  the  same  gate, 
and  rethreaded  the  same  dark  alleys.  He  sought  his 
home,  but  it  was  now  a  mass  of  smoldering  ruins.  As 
a  last  desperate  hope  he  sought  the  Royal  Treasure 
House,  if  haply  she  might  there  have  found  a  hiding- 
place,  but  at  the  entrance  stood  Phoenix  and  Ulysses, 
the  captains  told  off  to  guard  the  loot.  There  lay,  piled 
in  a  confused  heap,  all  the  wealth  of  Troy  that  the 
flames  had  not  consumed — purple  robes,  coverlets 
and  tapestries,  armlets  and  anklets  of  wrought  gold, 
jeweled  drinking-bowls,  and  the  sacred  vessels  from  the 
temples. 

Reckless  of  the  risks  he  ran  he  shouted  from  street  to 
street,  "  Creusa !  Creusa ! "  when  at  last  a  familiar  voice 
replied,  and  before  him  he  saw,  not,  alas !  Creusa,  but  her 
ghost,  larger  than  human,  gazing  down  on  him  with 
eyes  of  infinite  pity.  "  Why/'  it  whispered,  "  this  wild 
grief  ?  Nothing,  dear  lord,  is  here  for  tears.  Twas  not 
the  will  of  heaven  that  I  should  share  thy  wanderings 
and  toils.  Be  of  good  heart.  In  the  far  west,  so  fate 
ordains,  where  Tiber  rolls  his  yellow  tide,  thou  shalt 
found  a  new  empire  and  espouse  a  princess  of  the  land. 
Nor  need'st  thou  pity  my  less  fortunate  lot.  I  have 
known  all  the  joys  of  married  bliss,  and  my  body  shall 
rest  in  the  soil  that  gave  me  birth.  No  proud  Greek  will 
boast  that  he  bears  home  in  his  captive  train  her  who 
was  the  wife  of  ^Eneas,  the  daughter-in-law  of  Venus. 


2OO  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

And  now,  fare  thee  well.     Forget  not  our  sweet  child, 
and  her  who  bore  him." 

"  Thrice  he  essayed  with  arms  outstretched  to  clasp 
Her  shade,  and  thrice  it  slipped  from  his  fond  grasp, 
Like  frolic  airs  that  o'er  a  still  lake  play, 
Or  dreams  that  vanish  at  the  break  of  day." 


JENEAS  AND  DIDO 

BY  V.  C.  TURNBULL 

HARDLY  less  renowned  than  the  wanderings  of 
crafty  Ulysses,  after  the  fall  of  Troy,  are  those 
of  pious  ^Eneas,  the  Trojan.  Many  were  his  adventures 
and  heavy  his  losses,  for  he  was  pursued  evermore  by 
the  hatred  of  Juno,  who  detested  all  Trojans,  and  but 
for  the  protecting  care  of  his  mother  Venus  he  must 
have  perished. 

On  the  Sicilian  shore  he  had  lost  his  aged  father, 
Anchises,  and  vEneas  mourned  his  good  old  sire,  whom 
he  had  carried  on  his  shoulders  from  burning  Troy. 

Thence  he  set  sail  with  his  son  lulus  to  Italy.  But 
when  they  had  put  forth  to  sea,  Juno  smote  them  with  a 
terrible  storm,  so  that  ^Eneas  lost  all  but  seven  ships  of 
his  fleet  and  not  a  few  of  his  comrades  perished.  He 
himself,  with  his  son  lulus  and  his  friend  Achates,  was 
driven  out  of  his  course  and  carried  to  the  shores  of 
Libya.  Here  the  Trojans  disembarked  and  thankfully 
rested  their  brine-drenched  limbs  on  the  beach.  And 
when  they  had  feasted  off  the  grain  brought  from  their 
ships,  and  the  venison  procured  for  them  by  their  cap 
tain's  bow,  ^Eneas,  taking  with  him  only  Achates,  set 
forth  to  survey  this  unexplored  country. 

On  their  way  through  a  forest  they  met  a  fair  maid 
in  the  garb  of  a  huntress,  and  of  her  they  inquired  what 
land  this  might  be  and  who  dwelt  therein.  She  told  them 
they  had  come  to  the  land  and  city  of  Carthage,  over 

201 


2O2  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

which  ruled  the  Tyrian  Queen  Dido.  She  told  them, 
moreover,  that  the  Queen  had  once  .ruled  in  Tyre,  the 
consort  of  Sichseus,  a  Phoenician  prince,  and  that  when 
her  lord  had  been  murdered  by  his  cruel  brother  Pyg 
malion,  she  had  fled  to  Libya,  where  even  now  she  was 
rearing  the  stately  city  of  Carthage.  And  she  bade  them 
seek  the  Queen  and  throw  themselves  on  her  protection. 
^Eneas  had  gazed  in  wonder  and  admiration  at  the 
maiden,  deeming  her  some  nymph  of  Dian's  train,  and 
he  was  about,  on  bended  knee,  to  give  her  thanks  when 
she  turned  on  him  a  parting  glance.  And  lo !  the  goddess 
stood  revealed,  radiant  in  celestial  beauty;  and  as  he 
recognized  his  mother,  she  had  vanished  from  his  sight. 

Cheered  by  this  vision,  ^Eneas  and  Achates  pressed  for 
ward,  and,  that  none  might  molest  them,  Venus  wrapped 
them  in  a  thick  mist.  Emerging  from  the  forest  they 
climbed  a  hill  overlooking  the  city  of  Carthage,  where 
skilled  workmen  were  on  all  sides  busied  rearing  stately 
buildings.  In  the  midst  of  the  city,  with  a  flight  of  mar 
ble  stairs  and  surrounded  by  a  grove  of  trees,  stood  a 
temple  to  Juno,  its  gates  of  brass  glittering  in  the  morn 
ing  sun.  And  ^Eneas,  drawing  near,  marveled  to  find 
the  walls  of  this  temple  painted  with  pictures  of  the 
Trojan  War — aye,  and  himself  he  saw  portrayed  fight 
ing  against  the  Grecian  leaders. 

Whilst  y£neas  and  Achates  were  still  gazing,  Queen 
Dido  drew  near  with  a  great  retinue  of  maidens  and 
youths.  She  seated  herself  on  a  throne  under  the  dome 
of  the  temple,  for  here  it  was  her  custom  to  deal  justice 
and  apportion  work  to  her  subjects,  urging  forward  with 
cheerful  words  the  building  of  her  city.  Among  the 
first  to  appear  before  the  Queen,  ^Eneas  and  Achates 
saw  with  astonishment  certain  of  their  own  friends — 


^Eneas  and  Dido  203 

Ilioneus,  Antheus,  Sergestus,  and  Cloanthus,  whom  they 
had  supposed  to  have  been  drowned  in  the  storm.  These, 
coming  before  Dido,  told  her  of  their  sufferings  and  en 
treated  her  protection  in  that  strange  country. 

"  We  had  for  our  king  ^Eneas,"  said  Ilioneus,  the 
spokesman,  "  than  whom  none  was  more  pious  and  brave. 
If  he  yet  lives  we  shall  not  despair,  neither  shalt  thou, 
O  Queen,  repent  thee  of  thy  hospitality." 

Queen  Dido  answered  the  Trojans  graciously,  promis 
ing  them  all  they  asked  and  more. 

"  And  would,"  she  added,  "  that  your  prince  yEneas 
too  were  here!  But  my  messengers  shall  search  the 
Libyan  coasts,  and  if  he  has  been  cast  ashore  he  shall 
be  found." 

Even  as  she  spoke,  the  mist  that  hid  yEneas  and 
Achates  suddenly  parted,  and  vEneas  stood  forth  in  the 
bright  light  like  a  god;  and,  joyfully  embracing  his 
friends,  poured  out  his  gratitude  to  Dido. 

The  voice  of  the  Queen  was  even  gentler  than  before 
as  she  replied :  "  I  too  have  been  tossed  by  fortune  on  the 
high  seas;  I  too  came  to  these  shores  a  stranger.  What 
sorrow  was  myself  have  known,  and  learnt  to  melt  at 
others'  wOe." 

Then  Dido  bade  yEneas  and  Achates  to  a  feast  in  her 
palace,  and  to  their  followers  on  the  shore  she  sent  bulls, 
lambs,  and  wine  to  provide  a  banquet.  ^Eneas  also 
despatched  Achates  to  the  beach  to  bring  therefrom 
the  young  lulus,  and  with  him  presents  for  the  Queen — 
a  mantle  stiff  with  gold,  a  scepter,  a  necklace  of  pearls, 
and  a  crown  set  with  double  rows  of  gems  and  gold. 

The  gifts  made  and  his  son  embraced,  ^Eneas  was  led 
into  the  great  hall  of  the  palace,  where  the  guests  re 
clined  on  purple  couches.  In  the  midst  Queen  Dido 


204  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

reclined  on  a  golden  couch  under  a  rich  canopy,  and 
beside  her  lay  the  boy  lulus.  So  they  feasted  and  were 
merry,  and  after  the  banquet  Dido  pledged  her  guest  in 
a  loving  cup  and  invited  him  to  tell  her  all  that  had  be 
fallen  him  since  the  fall  of  Troy. 

And  he  told  her  the  long  tale  of  his  perils  by  land 
and  sea,  and  of  the  shipwreck  which  had  landed  him 
upon  the  hospitable  shores  of  Carthage. 

And,  as  Queen  Dido  listened,  the  memory  of  her  dead 
husband  Sichseus  was  no  longer  first  in  her  thoughts,  for 
a  great  love  sprang  up  for  this  princely  stranger  who 
had  endured  so  much  and  had  followed  his  star,  true  to 
his  country  and  his  country's  gods.  Far  into  the  night 
the  Queen  sat  listening  to  the  tale,  and  in  the  night 
watches  the  image  of  the  hero  haunted  her  fevered  sleep. 
At  the  first  dawn  she  sought  her  sister  Anna,  and  poured 
into  sympathetic  ears  the  trouble  of  her  heart,  confess 
ing  with  shame  her  fears  lest  she  should  prove  faithless 
to  the  memory  of  her  dead  lord. 

But  Anna  bade  her  mourn  no  more  for  the  unheeding 
dead,  wasting  her  youth  and  beauty. 

"  Surely,"  said  she,  "  it  was  Juno  who  sent  the  Trojans 
to  this  shore.  Think,  sister,  how  your  city  will  flourish, 
how  your  kingdom  will  wax  great  from  such  an  alliance ! 
How  will  the  Carthaginian  glory  be  advanced  by  Trojan 
arms !  " 

That  day  she  invited  her  guest  to  view  all  the  wonders 
of  Carthage.  She  showed  him  her  rising  quays  and 
forts,  her  palace  and  its  treasures ;  but  even  as  they  con 
versed  her  voice  would  falter,  and  her  silence  and 
blushes  were  tell-tales  and  betrayed  her  growing  love. 
When  the  evening  feast  was  ended  she  asked  again  to 
hear  the  tale  of  Troy,  and  hung  again  on  his  lips. 


and  Dido  205 

For  the  next  day,  to  divert  her  guest,  the  Queen 
ordered  a  great  hunt,  and  an  army  of  beaters  was  sent  to 
scour  the  hills  and  drive  in  the  game.  At  dawn  a  gal 
lant  company — all  the  proud  lords  of  Carthage  and  the 
comrades  of  ^Eneas — gathered  at  the  palace  gates  and 
waited  for  the  Queen.  At  length  she  descended  from 
her  chamber,  robed  in  gold  and  purple,  and  the  long 
cavalcade  rode  forth  headed  by  Dido  and  ^Eneas.  When 
they  reached  the  hills  they  scattered  far  and  wide  in  the 
ardor  of  the  chase,  and  the  royal  pair  found  themselves 
alone.  On  a  sudden  the  heavens  were  darkened  and  the 
rain  descended  in  torrents,  and  Dido  and  yEneas  betook 
themselves  for  shelter  to  a  mountain  cave.  Thus  had 
Juno  planned  it,  for  she  hated  the  Trojans  and  would 
have  kept  JEneas  in  Carthage.  There,  in  the  dark  cavern, 
the  Trojan  plighted  his  troth  to  the  Carthaginian  Queen. 
That  day  the  tide  of  death  set  in.  The  heavens  thun 
dered  and  the  mountain  nymphs  wailed  over  their  bridal. 

But  the  triumph  of  Juno  was  short-lived,  for  Jupiter, 
from  his  throne  on  Olympus,  beheld  the  founder  of  the 
Roman  race  forgetful  of  his  destiny  and  sunk  in  soft 
dalliance.  He  called  to  him  his  son  Mercury,  and  bade 
him  bind  on  his  winged  sandals,  and  bear  to  Carthage 
this  stern  reproof :  "  Shame  on  thee,  degenerate  hero, 
false  to  thy  mother  and  thy  son,  thus  sunk  in  luxury  and 
ease !  Set  sail  and  leave  this  fatal  shore." 

The  heart  of  the  hero,  when  he  heard  this  message, 
was  torn  in  twain.  How  could  he  disobey  the  voice  of 
the  god?  How  could  he  bring  himself  to  desert  the 
Queen  whose  heart  he  had  won,  and  break  his  troth  ? 

But  what  were  the  closest  of  human  ties  when  the 
god  had  spoken?  So  he  called  to  him  his  comrades  and 
bade  them  in  secret  make  ready  the  ships  for  departure. 


206  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

But  lovers'  ears  are  keen,  and  rumors  of  the  prepa 
ration  reached  the  Queen  in  her  palace.  She  raved 
like  a  madwoman,  and  called  down  curses  on  the  per 
jured  traitor.  Grown  calmer,  she  sought  JEneas  and, 
with  mingled  reproaches  and  appeals  to  his  pity,  be 
sought  him  at  least  to  delay  his  departure.  The  lover's 
heart  was  touched,  but  the  hero  was  unmoved;  and  with 
the  gentlest  words  he  could  frame,  he  told  the  Queen 
that  he  had  no  choice  but  to  follow  his  weird  as  Heaven 
ordained.  He  could  never  forget  her  lovingkindness, 
and  would  cherish  her  memory  to  his  dying  day. 

Then  the  Queen  knew  that  she  was  betrayed,  and 
flatteries  and  soft  words  served  but  to  rekindle  her  rage. 
She  bade  the  perjured  wretch  begone;  she  cursed  his 
false  gods  and  their  lying  message,  and  swore  that  she 
would  pursue  him  with  black  flames,  and  that  after 
death  her  ghost  would  haunt  him  in  every  place.  This 
said,  she  turned-  and  left  him,  and  he  saw  her  never 
more. 

^Eneas  would  fain  have  stayed  to  calm  her  grief  and 
soothe  her  rage,  but  duty  bade  him  go,  and  he  urged  on 
his  men  to  equip  the  fleet  for  departure.  They,  nothing 
loath,  set  to,  and  the  harbor  was  like  an  ant-hill,  with  the 
sailors  shaping  new  oars  and  loading  the  beached  vessels. 
Soon  the  black  keels  rode  the  waters  all  along  the  shore. 
Dido,  perceiving  this  from  her  tower,  sent  her  sister  Anna 
with  a  last  message  imploring  ^Eneas  yet  a  little  to 
delay.  But  ^Eneas,  steadfast  as  a  rock,  turned  to  her  a 
deaf  ear,  and  into  the  heart  of  the  unhappy  Dido  came 
despair  and  thoughts  of  death. 

To  death,  indeed,  dark  omens  turned  her  mind.  For 
when  she  offered  sacrifice,  the  wine  which  she  poured 
upon  the  smoking  incense  turned  to  blood;  and  at  night, 


^Eneas  and  Dido  207 

when  kneeling  before  the  shrine  of  her  dead  husband,  she 
heard  his  voice  bidding  her  arise  and  come  to  him. 

So  the  Queen,  interpreting  these  dark  signs  as  her 
sick  heart  dictated,  made  ready  to  die. 

Calling  her  sister  Anna,  she  declared  that  she  would 
now  make  use  of  a  magic  charm  given  to  her  by  a 
priestess  to  bring  back  faithless  lovers  or  make  the  love 
sick  whole.  To  work  this  spell  it  was  necessary  to  collect 
and  burn  all  tokens  of  the  light  of  love. 

"  Do  you,  therefore,"  said  Dido  to  Anna,  "  gather  to 
gether  the  arms  and  garments  which  yEneas  in  his  haste 
to  be  gone  has  left  behind  him,  and  lay  these  upon  a 
vast  funeral  pile,  which  I  beseech  you  to  erect  secretly  in 
the  inner  court  of  the  palace,  under  the  open  sky." 

As  she  spoke,  a  deadly  pallor  overspread  the  face  of 
Dido.  But  her  sister  Anna,  suspecting  nothing,  made 
haste  to  obey  the  Queen.  The  great  pile  was  quickly 
erected,  with  torches  and  fagots  of  oak,  and  crowned  with 
funeral  boughs.  On  it  were  placed  the  weapons  and 
raiment  of  ^Eneas,  while  the  Queen  offered  sacrifices,  and 
herbs  cut  by  moonlight  with  brazen  sickles. 

Next  morning,  before  daybreak,  ^Eneas  called  upon 
his  comrades  to  set  sail.  With  his  own  sword  he  cut  the 
hawsers,  and  his  men,  pushing  off,  smote  the  sounding 
waves  with  their  oars,  and  the  wind  filling  their  unfurled 
sails,  they  swept  out  into  the  open  sea  as  the  sun  rose 
over  the  waters. 

From  the  tower  of  her  palace  Queen  Dido  saw  them 
depart.  And  lifting  up  her  voice  she  laid  a  curse  upon 
them,  prophesying  that  for  ages  to  come  dire  enmity 
should  rage  between  the  race  of  yEneas  and  the  Car 
thaginian  people. 

Then,   very   pale,   she   entered   the   inner   court   and 


208  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

mounted  the  funeral  pile.  A  little  while  she  paused, 
musing  and  shedding  her  last  tears. 

Anon  she  spoke,  and  bade  farewell  to  the  light  of  the 
sun :  "  I  have  lived  my  life ;  I  have  finished  the  course 
ordained  to  me  by  Fate.  I  have  raised  a  glorious  city. 
I  descend  illustrious  to  the  shades  below." 

She  paused,  and  her  voice  fell  to  a  low  wail  as  she 
added :  "  Happy,  ah,  too  happy,  my  lot  had  the  Trojan 
ships  never  touched  my  shores !  " 

Then,  unsheathing  the  sword,  she  plunged  it  into  her 
bosom  and  fell  down  upon  the  pyre. 

Her  handmaidens,  seeing  her  fall,  rent  the  air  with 
their  cries.  And  Anna,  rushing  in,  raised  her  dying  sister 
in  her  arms,  striving  in  vain  to  stanch  the  flowing  blood, 
and  crying  with  tears :  "  Oh,  sister,  was  it  for  this  that 
you  bade  me  raise  the  pyre?  Ah,  would  that  you  had  let 
me  be  your  companion  in  death !  " 

But  the  last  words  of  Dido,  Queen  of  Carthage,  had 
been  spoken. 

Far  out  at  sea,  ^Eneas  saw  a  great  smoke  rising  from 
Carthage,  as  it  were  from  a  funeral  pyre.  And  a  sore 
pang  smote  him,  and  bitterly  he  divined  what  had  passed. 
But  he  held  upon  his  destined  way,  nor  looked  he  back 
again,  but  turned  his  eyes  towards  the  promised  land 
of  Latium. 


.ENEAS  IN  HADES 

BY  V.  C.  TURNBULL 

"The  journey  down  to  the  abyss 

Is  prosperous  and  light ; 
The  palace  gates  of  gloomy  Dis 

Stand  open  day  and  night; 
But  upward  to  retrace  the  way, 
And  pass  into  the  light  of  day, — 
There  comes  the  stress  of  labor — this 
May  task  a  hero's  might." 

VIRGIL. — Conington's  Translation. 

7T7NEAS,  in  the  course  of  his  wanderings,  landed  on 
/  Lit  the  shores  of  Cumse  in  Italy.  Here  he  sought  out 
the  Sibyl,  the  inspired  prophetess  who  dwelt  in  a  cave 
behind  the  temple  of  Apollo,  and  gave  forth  to  inquirers 
the  answers  of  the  god.  High  destinies  she  promised 
^Eneas,  but  not  without  many  further  trials. 

^Eneas,  undismayed,  besought  the  Sibyl  to  guide  him 
on  his  way :  "  O  Priestess,  it  has  been  told  that  here  are 
the  gates  of  the  lower  world.  Open  for  me,  I  beg  of  you, 
that  portal,  for  I  long  greatly  to  speak  once  more  with 
my  dear  father.  I  bore  him  on  my  shoulders  from  flam 
ing  Troy,  and  in  all  my  voyages  he  accompanied  me, 
facing,  though  infirm,  the  terrors  of  sea  and  sky.  Nay, 
more,  it  was  at  his  bidding  that  I  came  a  suppliant  to  thy 
temple.  Have  pity  upon  us  both,  O  Sybil,  and  enable 
us  to  meet  once  more." 

Then  the  Sibyl,  in  reply,  warned  JEneas  that  though 

209 


210  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 


many  went  down  with  ease  into  the  Abode  of  the  Dead, 
few — very  few,  and  they  the  specially  favored  of  the 
gods — returned  therefrom.  "  But  if,"  she  went  on,  "  you 
are  determined  to  dare  the  desperate  enterprise,  seek 
out  in  this  dark  wood  a  tree  that  hides  one  branch  all 
golden.  This  bough  is  sacred  to  Proserpine,  Queen  of  the 
Lower  World,  and  to  her  must  you  bear  it  as  a  gift. 
Without  it  no  living  being  may  enter  the  Lower  World. 
Pluck  it,  and  if  the  Fates  have  willed  it  so,  it  will  yield 
at  a  touch,  else  no  mortal  force  can,  wrest  it  from  its 
parent  stem." 

So  ^Eneas  and  Achates  plunged  into  the  primeval  for 
est  near  which  the  Sibyl  dwelt.  They  had  not  gone  far 
when  two  doves  alighted  on  the  sward  hard  by.  Then 
JEneas  was  glad,  for  he  knew  them  to  be  the  birds  of  his 
mother  Venus,  and  he  besought  his  mother  that  her 
messengers  might  guide  him  on  his  way.  And  the  doves 
flitted  on  before  them  till  they  lighted  at  last  on  a  lofty 
tree,  amid  the  boughs  of  which  yEneas  discerned  the  gleam 
of  gold.  This  was  the  Golden  Bough,  growing  like 
mistletoe  from  the  oak,  and  there  was  a  tinkle  in  the  air 
as  the  breeze  rustled  the  golden  foil.  Joyfully  ^Eneas 
broke  it  from  the  trunk,  and  bore  it  back  to  the  dwelling 
of  the  Sibyl. 

Then  the  priestess  led  the  way  back  into  the  gloomy 
wood,  halting  before  a  cavern,  vast  and  hideous  with 
its  yawning  black  mouth,  from  which  exhaled  so  poison 
ous  a  breath  that  no  bird  could  cross  it  unhurt.  Here 
^Eneas  and  the  Sibyl  offered  sacrifices  to  the  Gods  of 
the  Lower  World.  At  sunrise  the  ground  began  to 
rumble  beneath  their  feet,  and  a  baying  of  hell-dogs 
rolled  up  from  the  chasm. 

"  Avaunt,   ye   profane ! "    cried    the    priestess,    "  and, 


JEneas  in  Hades  211 

,  do  thou  draw  thy  sword  and  march  boldly  for 
ward;  now  is  the  hour  to  try  thy  mettle." 

So  saying,  she  plunged  into  the  dark  cavern,  and 
^Eneas,  following,  entered  the  world  of  the  dead. 

In  a  desolate  country  on  the  outskirts  of  the  spirit- 
world  they  saw  the  forms  of  Grief  and  vengeful  Cares; 
here  dwelt  disconsolate  Old  Age,  Fear,  Famine,  Death, 
and  Toil.  Murderous  War  was  here,  and  frantic  Dis 
cord,  whose  viperous  locks  are  bound  with  bloody 
fillets. 

All  these  they  passed,  coming  to  the  turbid  flood 
Acheron,  on  which  the  ferryman  Charon,  a  grisly,  un 
kempt  graybeard,  with  eyes  of  flame,  plied  to  and 
fro. 

On  the  banks  of  the  river  stood  a  great  company  of 
ghosts,  matrons  and  men,  boys  and  maidens,  numerous 
as  swallows  flying  south,  or  leaves  before  the  autumn 
wind.  They  stood  praying  to  be  taken  into  the  boat, 
and  stretching  their  hands  towards  the  farther  shore; 
but  the  sullen  boatman  would  take  only  a  few,  choosing 
whom  he  would.  Then,  in  reply  to  his  questions,  the 
priestess  told  ^Eneas  that  the  bodies  of  those  whom  the 
boatman  refused  had  been  left  unburied  upon  earth, 
wherefore  these  ghosts  were  doomed  to  flutter  for  a 
hundred  years  along  the  shores  of  Acheron  before  Charon 
would  consent  to  ferry  them  across. 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  landing-stage,  and 
the  priestess  beckoned  to  Charon;  he  refusing  at  first  to 
carry  a  mortal  across  that  river  till  she  showed  him  the 
Golden  Bough.  At  the  sight  of  this  Charon  came  at 
once  with  his  boat,  pushing  out  the  ghosts  that  sat 
therein  to  make  room  for  yEneas.  Groaning  beneath  the 
weight  of  a  mortal  the  boat  was  well-nigh  swamped,  but 


212  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

at  length  the  priestess  and  the  hero  were  safely  landed 
on  the  farther  shore. 

But  now  at  the  gate  stood  Cerberus,  the  three-headed 
dog,  making  those  realms  resound  with  his  barking.  To 
him  the  priestess  threw  an  opiate  of  honey-cakes,  and 
he,  snatching  at  it  with  his  three  mouths,  lay  down  to 
sleep,  thus  permitting  them  to  pass. 

Now  to  their  ears  came  the  wails  of  infants,  ghosts  of 
those  who  had  been  bereft  of  sweet  life  even  at  their 
mother's  breast.  Next  came  those  who  had  been  con 
demned  to  death  unheard  or  falsely  charged.  Full  jus 
tice  they  now  received;  Minos  the  judge  metes  out  to 
each  his  proper  sentence. 

After  these  ./Eneas  came  upon  a  group  of  those  un 
happy  ones  who  with  their  own  hands  had  destroyed 
their  lives.  Ah,  gladly  now  would  they  endure  poverty 
and  toil  could  they  but  revisit  the  kindly  light  of  the 
sun! 

Now  ^Eneas  entered  a  region  named  the  Fields  of 
Mourning,  inhabited  by  the  ghosts  of  those  who  had  died 
for  love.  And  among  them,  in  a  wood,  yEneas  saw,  or 
deemed  he  saw,  dim  as  the  new  moon  in  a  cloudy  sky, 
the  form  of  Dido,  still  pale  from  her  death-wound. 
Tears  in  his  eyes,  he  addressed  her  sad  ghost  with  lov 
ing  words  as  of  old :  "  So,  as  I  feared,  it  was  true,  the 
message  of  those  funeral  fires.  And  was  I,  alas!  the 
cause  of  your  death?  O  Queen,  believe  that  it  was 
against  my  will  that  I  left  thy  coasts!  Unwilling,  I 
swear,  by  the  behest  of  the  gods  did  I  leave  thee,  even  as 
now,  by  the  same  behest,  I  tread  the  land  of  darkness 
and  despair.  Ah,  tarry  but  a  little!  'Tis  our  last  fare 
well." 

So  he  spoke,  seeking  to  soothe  the  injured  shade.    But 


page  212! 


/ENEAS  IN   HADES 


^Eneas  in  Hades  213 

she,  with  averted  eyes,  stood,  still  as  a  statue  of  stone. 
Then  in  silent  scorn  she  fled  to  seek  her  first  lord, 
Sichseus,  who  answers  sorrow  with  sorrow. 

Thence  to  the  farthest  fields  they  passed  the  haunts 
of  heroes  slain  in  battle;  and  here  ^Eneas  greeted  many 
comrades  of  early  days.  But  when  the  ghosts  of 
Agamemnon's  Greek  army  beheld  the  mighty  hero,  his 
arms  gleaming  through  the  shades,  they  quaked,  and 
many  fled  as  erstwhile  before  to  their  ships,  while  others, 
trying  to  raise  the  war-cry,  could  utter  only  "  the  bat- 
like  shrilling  of  the  dead." 

A  pitiful  shade,  with  marred  visage  and  mangled  body, 
approached  them,  and  ^Eneas  recognized  the  ghost  of 
Deiphobus,  son  of  Priam,  and  asked  of  his  cruel  fate; 
and  Deiphobus  poured  forth  the  long  tale  of  his  wife's 
treachery,  and  how  he  had  been  foully  slaughtered  in 
his  sleep.  Long  had  they  thus  conversed,  but  the  Sibyl 
plucked  ^Eneas  by  the  robe  and  warned  him :  "  Night 
falls  apace;  'tis  time  to  go.  Thou  hast  come  to  the 
parting  of  the  ways.  Here  lie  Elysium  and  the  fields 
of  the  blessed,  and  there,  to  the  left,  Tartarus  and  the 
tortures  of  the  damned."  And  even  now  ^Eneas  descried 
vast  prisons  inclosed  with  a  triple  wall,  round  which  the 
river  Phlegethon  rolled  its  threefold  floods  of  flame, 
while  rocks  whirled  roaring  down  the  stream.  Over 
against  the  stream  stood  a  massive  gateway,  whose 
adamantine  columns  defied  all  force  of  men  or  gods, 
and  above  the  gate  rose  a  tower  of  iron.  Here  sat  the 
Fury  Tisiphone,  watching  all  who  entered.  And  from 
within  the  gate  came  groans  and  the  whistling  of  scourges 
and  the  clanking  of  chains. 

^Eneas  asked  what  meant  this  woful  wailing,  and  the 
Sibyl  replied :  "  None  innocent  may  cross  that  threshold. 


214  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

There  Rhadamanthus  judges  the  dead,  and  avenging 
Tisiphone  scourges  the  guilty.  Within  the  gate  rages 
the  Hydra  with  fifty  gaping  mouths.  Downward  sinks 
the  pit,  twice  as  deep  as  the  heavens  are  high.  In  it 
groan  the  Titans,  hurled  down  with  thunderbolts,  and 
the  giants,  Otus  and  Ephialtes,  who  strove  to  overturn 
the  throne  of  Jupiter  himself.  There  lies  Tityus,  o'er 
nine  roods  outstretched,  and  eternally  does  a  vulture  tear 
his  liver  with  her  beak.  Over  some  hangs  a  rock  threat 
ening  ever  to  fall;  before  others  a  bounteous  banquet  is 
continually  spread,  but  the  hands  that  they  stretch  to 
take  the  food  are  evermore  struck  back  by  the  Furies. 
Some  roll  a  huge  stone,  others  are  bound  to  the  re 
volving  wheel.  Here  lie  they  who  heaped  up  riches  for 
themselves,  an  unnumbered  multitude;  here  also  they 
who  hated  their  brothers  or  lifted  cruel  hands  against 
their  parents.  Take  warning  by  their  fate,  and  ask  no 
further  concerning  their  awful  doom." 

Thus  warned,  ^Eneas  went  forward  in  silence,  and  at 
the  direction  of  the  Sibyl  he  offered  the  Golden  Bough  at 
the  gate. 

Now  came  they  at  length  to  the  regions  of  joy,  the 
green  retreats  and  happy  groves  of  Elysium.  An  ampler 
ether  and  a  purer  light  invest  these  fields,  for  the  blessed 
have  their  own  sun  and  stars.  In  jousts  and  races,  in 
dance  and  song,  they  fleet  the  golden  hours,  a  blessed 
company  of  bards  and  patriots,  paladins  and  victors  in 
the  races.  Among  them  ^Eneas  marked  Ilus,  a  former 
king  of  Troy,  and  Dardanus,  that  city's  founder.  Their 
chariots  were  empty,  their  spears  stood  fixed  in  the 
ground,  their  horses  fed  at  large  throughout  the  plain, 
for  the  ruling  purpose  in  life  survives  the  grave. 

There,  in  a  sequestered  dale,  stood  Anchises  survey- 


in  Hades  215 

ing  the  souls  that  were  to  revisit  earth  once  more,  among 
them  his  own  offspring  yet  unborn.  But  when  he  saw 
yEneas  moving  to  meet  him,  with  outstretched  arms  and 
tearful  eyes  he  cried :  "  O  my  son,  my  son,  hast  thou  come 
to  me  indeed?  Am  I  permitted  to  see  thy  face  and  hear 
thy  well-known  voice  once  more  ? "  And  ^Eneas  an 
swered,  weeping  also :  "  Give  me  thy  hand,  my  father, 
and  take  me  to  thy  breast."  Thrice  he  strove  to  throw 
his  arm  round  his  father,  thrice  the  phantom  slipped  from 
his  embrace,  thin  as  the  fluttering  breeze  or  like  a  dream 
of  the  night.  Gazing  around  him  he  saw  in  a  wooded 
glade  numberless  peoples  and  tribes,  hovering  above  the 
brakes  like  bees  in  summer-time,  and  he  inquired  of  his 
sire  what  these  might  be. 

Then  Anchises  taught  ./Eneas  many  wonderful  things 
concerning  the  state  of  departed  souls  in  Elysium  and 
the  future  of  the  Trojan  race.  And  touching  the  first, 
he  said  that  after  suffering  many  things  the  evil  of  their 
natures  was  washed  or  burned  away,  and  they  passed 
to  Elysium,  there  to  dwell  for  a  thousand  years.  "  Al! 
these,"  he  continued,  "  are  then  summoned  forth  by  the 
gods  in  a  great  body  to  the  river  Lethe,  wherein  they 
leave  all  memory  of  the  past  and  again  become  willing 
to  return  into  mortal  bodies." 

Saying  this,  he  led  yEneas  to  the  summit  of  a  hill  from 
which  they  who  were  to  be  born  could  be  seen  passing 
in  an  endless  file  before  them. 

"  See  you,"  he  said,  "  that  youth  leaning  on  a  point 
less  spear?  He  shall  be  Silvius,  the  child  of  thy  old  age, 
and  shall  reign  over  Alba  Longa.  Behold  there  Romulus, 
the  founder  of  Rome,  the  city  of  the  seven  hills,  he  shall 
rule  the  world.  The  graybeard  behind  him  is  Numa, 
the  lawgiver,  and  next  comes  Tullus,  the  warrior.  Those 


216  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

that  follow  are  the  proud  Tarquins.  There,  too,  is 
Brutus,  unhappy  man,  who  shall  give  liberty  to  Rome; 
and,  unhappy  father!  whose  inflexible  justice  shall  doom 
to  death  his  guilty  sons." 

All  these  and  many  others  who  sprang  from  ^Eneas' 
loins,  did  Anchises  point  out,  crying  as  he  ended :  "  To 
you,  O  Romans,  be  it  given  to  rule  the  nations,  to  dic 
tate  terms  of  peace,  to  spare  the  humbled,  and  to  crush 
the  proud." 

Last  they  watched  the  great  Marcellus,  the  terror  of 
the  Gauls,  the  conqueror  of  Carthage. 

Then  ^Eneas  asked :  "  What  youth  is  he,  O  father,  who 
walks  by  his  side  in  shining  armor;  but  his  counte 
nance  is  sad,  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  ground?  Is  he  a 
son,  or  haply  a  grandson  ?  " 

And  Anchises  wept  as  he  replied :  "  Alas,  my  son,  for 
the  sorrows  of  thy  kindred !  Dear  child  of  pity !  could'st 
thou  but  burst  thy  fate's  invidious  bar,  our  own  Mar 
cellus  thou!  Ah!  woful  shall  be  the  day  of  his  death! 
Could  he  but  live  none  had  faced  his  onset.  Bring  lilies 
— lilies  in  handfuls;  let  me  heap  bright  flowers  on  the 
shade  unborn,  and  pay  at  least  this  empty  tribute."  * 

Thus  they  passed  through  Elysium,  Anchises  show 
ing  and  explaining  all  to  yE-neas,  firing  him  with  the 
thoughts  of  future  fame,  and  instructing  him  how  to  act 
throughout  the  struggles  of  his  remaining  life.  Then, 
when  all  had  been  shown  and  said,  Father  Anchises  sent 
back  his  son  ^Eneas  and  the  Sibyl  to  the  mortal  world 
by  that  shining  Ivory  Gate  where  through  pass  the  dreams 
that  visit  the  slumbers  of  men. 

*The  reference  is  to  Marcellus,  nephew  and  son-in-law  of 
Augustus,  and  his  destined  heir.  He  died  at  the  early  age  of 
eighteen, 


NISUS  AND  EURYALUS 

BY   F.    STORR 

NEAS  was  absent  from  the  camp.  Warned  by 
Father  Tiber  he  had  gone  with  a  picked  band  of 
followers  to  seek  the  alliance  of  his  kinsman,  King 
Evander,  who  with  his  Arcadians  had  settled  themselves 
on  the  seven  hills  which  now  are  Rome. 

Whilst  he  was  away,  the  camp  was  left  in  charge  of 
his  son  lulus,  and  as  adjutant  and  counselor  to  the 
young  prince  he  appointed  his  most  experienced  gen 
eral,  old  Aletes. 

But  Juno,  the  implacable  foe  of  Troy,  had  despatched 
to  Turnus,  the  Rutulian  Prince,  her  messenger  Iris  to 
tell  him  of  ^Eneas'  absence  and  bid  him  seize  the  occa 
sion  to  storm  the  Trojan  camp.  So  all  day  long  the 
garrison,  reduced  in  numbers  and  without  its  great  cap 
tain,  saw  the  tide  of  horse  and  foot,  Latins,  Rutulians, 
and  Etruscans,  gathering  in  the  plain  and  sweeping  on 
ward  to  overwhelm  them,  like  the  Nile  in  full  flood.  As 
yEneas  had  bid  them,  they  retired  within  their  intrench- 
ments,  too  strong  to  be  carried  at  the  first  assault. 

At  nightfall  the  enemy  withdrew,  and  the  weary  de 
fenders  lay  down  to  sleep,  but  in  fear  of  a  night  attack 
they  ventured  not  to  unbuckle  their  armor,  and  at  each 
camp-gate  was  posted  a  strong  guard  of  sentinels. 

Conspicuous  among  the  captains  of  the  guard  was 
Nisus,  whom  his  mother,  Ida,  the  world-famed  huntress, 
had  sent  as  squire  to  ^neas,  no  less  skilled  than  his 

217 


218  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

mother  with  javelin  or  with  bow.  With  him  as  his  lieu 
tenant  was  Euryalus,  the  fairest  youth,  save  lulus  alone, 
in  all  the  Trojan  host,  the  down  of  manhood  just  show 
ing  on  his  cheek,  elsewise  as  round  and  smooth  as  a 
girl's. 

The  two  were  more  than  brothers-in-arms,  insepara 
ble  as  twin  cherries  on  a  single  stalk;  the  one  followed 
the  other  as  his  shadow,  and  their  love  was  more  than 
the  love  of  man  and  maid. 

And  now  as  they  kept  watch  together  they  thus  con 
versed  : 

Nisus.  I  know  not  what  ails  me,  brother,  but  to 
night  I  feel  a  wild  unrest,  a  strange  prompting  to  be  up 
and  doing  some  doughty  deed.  What  think  you,  brother  ? 
Is  it  an  inspiration  of  heaven  or  only  my  own  fiery  spirit, 
pent  up  within  these  walls  and  fretting  for  the  fray? 
Mark  you,  brother.  The  enemy's  camp  is  silent  as  the 
tomb.  Not  a  sentinel  is  stirring,  and  the  rare  watch- 
fires  burn  low.  'Tis  plain  to  me  that  the  captains,  hav 
ing  driven  us  back  to  our  trenches,  have  been  celebrating 
their  victory  and  are  now  buried  in  drunken  slumber. 
Now  I  will  expound  to  thee  the  plan  that  is  working  in 
my  brain.  At  all  hazards  ^neas  must  be  summoned 
back  from  the  city  of  Evander — so  our  generals  and  men 
are  all  agreed.  If  only  my  proposal  is  accepted,  me- 
thinks  I  have  discovered  a  way  to  bear  the  message  and 
work  our  deliverance. 

EURYALUS.  Verily  'tis  a  glorious  venture  and  well 
worth  the  risk,  but  thou  speakest  as  if  the  venture  were 
thine.  Can  I  have  heard  thee  aright?  Truly,  brother, 
the  plan  is  thine,  but  the  execution  is  ours.  Thinkest 
thou,  brother,  alone  to  put  thy  head  into  the  lion's 
mouth?  Shall  I  not  share  thy  triumph  or  thy  death? 


Nisus  and  Euryalus  219 

In  life  we  have  been  one,  and  in  death  we  shall  not  be 
divided. 

Nisus.  Nay,  brother,  I  never  doubted  thy  courage  or 
thy  love.  This  thought  alone,  perhaps  a  selfish  thought, 
was  mine :  if  perchance  I  should  fall — and  sanguine  as 
I  am  of  success  I  know  'tis  a  perilous  hazard — I  would 
fain  one  sure  friend  survived  to  lay  my  body  in  mother 
earth,  or  if  that  grace  is  denied,  at  least  to  perform  due 
rites  at  my  cenotaph.  I  thought,  moreover,  that  thou 
art  the  younger  man  and  thy  mother's  only  son. 

EURYALUS.  Out  on  thy  vain  excuses!  Only  if  thou 
takest  me  with  thee  will  I  forgive  them.  My  mind  is 
set.  Let  us  to  work. 

So  they  called  to  the  nearest  sentinels  to  relieve  them 
of  their  guard  and  hurried  to  seek  lulus.  They  found 
him  in  his  tent  presiding  over  a  council  of  war,  but  the 
sentries  let  them  pass  on  business  that  would  not  wait. 
It  chanced  that  the  captains  were  at  that  moment  de 
bating  how  possibly  to  convey  a  message  to  ^Eneas  in 
forming  him  of  their  pressing  need,  and  when  Nisus 
expounded  to  them  his  plan,  assuring  them  that  as  a 
young  hunter  he  had  explored  every  inch  of  the  ground 
and  knew  a  secret  forest  path  that  would  lead  them 
to  the  rear  of  the  enemy's  camp,  he  was  welcomed  as 
a  messenger  sent  from  heaven.  Old  Aletes  laid  his 
hands  on  their  heads  and  with  tears  in  his  eyes  blessed 
the  gods  for  sending  such  deliverers.  "  Young  heroes !  " 
he  cried,  "  your  virtue  is  its  own  reward,  but  ^Eneas, 
when  he  returns,  will  know  how  to  recompense  you." 
lulus,  with  boyish  generosity,  promised  them  his  choicest 
treasures,  embossed  tankards  and  two  talents  of  gold, 
aye  and  the  charger  and  arms  of  Turnus,  whose  fall  was 
certain  when  ^Eneas  returned ;  and  he  put  his  arms  round 


22O  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

Euryalus'  neck  (the  youth  was  scarce  older  than  him 
self)  and  called  him  his  brother-in-arms. 

Boldened  by  this  signal  favor  of  the  prince,  Euryalus, 
on  bended  knee,  besought  one  parting  boon.  "  Prince," 
he  cried,  "  I  have  an  aged  mother  who  for  my  sake  left 
her  native  home  and  the  court  of  King  Acestes  to  ac 
company  me  to  the  wars.  I  may  not  stay  to  bid  her 
farewell  and  receive  her  blessing,  nor  could  I  dare  con 
fide  to  her  our  perilous  errand.  Thou  hast  deigned  to 
call  me  brother:  O  prince,  be  to  her  a  son.  To  know 
that  thou  wilt  be  here  to  solace  and  comfort  her  will 
give  me  fresh  confidence."  The  prince  swore  to  love 
and  cherish  her  no  less  than  his  own  lost  mother,  Creusa, 
and  wishing  him  Godspeed  he  girt  on  his  shoulder  the 
sword  of  that  famous  Cretan  swordsman,  Lycaon,  with 
hilt  of  wrought  gold  and  scabbard  of  ivory.  To  Nisus, 
Achates  gave  his  own  helmet,  that  had  borne  the  brunt 
of  many  a  shrewd  blow. 

Thus  armed  and  charged  with  many  messages  from 
lulus  to  his  father  they  left  the  camp,  and  the  captains 
sent  after  them  a  parting  cheer. 

The  night  was  dark,  but  Nisus  could  almost  have 
found  his  way  blindfolded  through  the  familiar  forest. 
In  a  short  hour  they  had  reached  the  camp  unperceived, 
and  then,  as  Nisus  had  anticipated,  they  found  a  scene 
of  barbarous  revelry.  Amongst  tilted  war-chariots, 
tethered  horses,  and  empty  wine- jars  men  lay  stretched 
in  drunken  slumber. 

"  Follow  me,"  whispered  Nisus,  "  and  keep  an  open 
eye  lest  any  attack  me  from  behind.  I  will  hew  thee 
anon  a  path  of  blood  by  which  we  can  both  pass  to  our 
goal." 

With  drawn  sword  he  rushed  on  Rhamnes,  who  lay 


Nisus  and  Euryalus  221 

snoring  on  a  pile  of  broidered  coverlets:  an  augur  was 
he  of  royal  blood,  but  little  did  his  augury  avail  him 
that  day.  His  three  attendants  soon  followed  their  mas 
ter  to  the  shades.  Like  a  ravening  wolf  who  has  leapt 
into  the  sheep  fold  he  dealt  havoc  right  and  left,  and  all 
that  Nisus  spared  the  sword  of  Euryalus  despatched. 

"  Enough,"  cried  Nisus,  at  length  sated  with  carnage ; 
"  our  way  through  the  enemy  is  clear,  and  the  tell-tale 
morn  is  nigh  at  hand."  Much  rich  spoil  they  left  be 
hind — flagons  of  gold  and  silver,  gemmed  goblets  and 
broideries;  but  Euryalus  cast  longing  eyes  on  a  huge 
baldrick  with  bosses  of  gold,  an  heirloom  of  the  dead 
augur,  and  he  strapped  it  round  his  shoulder;  nor  could 
he  resist  (proud  youth)  the  temptation  to  try  on  a 
bright  helmet  with  flaming  crest  of  Messapus,  the  Tamer 
of  Steeds.  With  these  spoils  to  attest  their  glorious 
raid,  the  pair  left  the  camp  and  gained  in  safety 
the  open. 

Their  task  seemed  well-nigh  accomplished,  but  it 
chanced  that  a  troop  of  three  hundred  horse,  despatched 
from  the  Latin  capital  as  an  advanced  guard  for  Turnus, 
were  just  then  approaching  the  camp  from  the  opposite 
direction,  and  espying  in  the  twilight  the  glint  of  the 
helmet  they  challenged  the  pair.  No  answer  was  re 
turned,  and  Nisus,  who  was  leading,  quickened  his  pace 
to  gain  the  shelter  of  the  forest.  The  horsemen  wheeled 
round  and  sought  to  cut  off  their  retreat,  but  they  were 
too  late,  and  Nisus  was  already  speeding  down  a  winding 
bypath  that  he  knew  full  well,  when  he  looked  back, 
and  to  his  horror  perceived  that  Euryalus  was  not  fol 
lowing.  "  Euryalus !  "  he  shouted,  but  no  answer  came. 
He  turned  and  painfully  retraced  his  steps.  Soon  he 
heard  the  tramp  of  horses  among  the  brushwood  and 


222  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

broken  branches,  and  guided  by  the  sound  in  a  clearing 
of  the  forest  he  saw  Euryalus,  his  back  against  an  oak, 
like  a  stag  at  bay,  facing  a  ring  of  horsemen.  What 
was  he  to  do?  To  save  himself  by  flight  was  unthink 
able,  but  should  he  rush  at  once  on  certain  death?  In 
desperation  he  breathed  a  prayer  to  his  patron  goddess 
Diana.  "  Queen  of  the  woods,"  he  cried,  "  by  the  gifts 
I  have  offered  on  thine  altar,  by  the  vows  I  have  daily 
paid,  help  me  now  in  my  utmost  need  and  guide  my 
aim !  "  So  praying,  he  hurled  with  all  his  might  a  spear, 
and  so  straight  and  swift  it  flew  that  Sulmo  was  trans 
fixed  from  back  to  breast,  and  the  shaft  snapped  off  short 
as  the  barbed  head  quivered  in  the  wound.  A  second 
spear  buried  itself  in  Tagus's  brain,  and  he  too  bit  the 
dust.  Volscens,  the  captain  of  the  troop,  saw  his  two 
comrades  struck  down  as  by  a  bolt  from  the  blue,  and 
with  drawn  sword  he  turned  on  Euryalus  crying,  "  If  I 
cannot  reach  the  fiend  who  hurled  those  spears,  thy  blood 
at  least  shall  atone  the  bloody  deed." 

At  this  Nisus  could  no  longer  restrain  himself,  and 
leaping  from  the  covert  he  shouted,  "  I,  none  but  I,  am 
the  guilty  cause.  Oh,  spare  this  innocent  boy  and  turn 
your  swords  on  me!  To  love  his  friend  too  well,  this 
was  his  only  crime !  "  But  his  words  were  vain ;  while 
yet  he  spoke  the  sword  of  Volscens  had  pierced  the  boy's 
heart  and  stained  with  gore  his  white  side,  and  he 
drooped  his  head  like  a  poppy  drenched  with  rain,  or  a 
harebell  upturned  by  the  plowshare. 

At  the  sight  Nisus  hurled  himself  into  the  thick  of 
his  foes,  scattering  them  right  and  left  with  the  light 
nings  of  his  glaive,  till  he  forced  his  way  to  Volscens, 
and  with  a  dying  effort  smote  the  murderer  of  his  sweet 
friend.  Pierced  with  a  hundred  wounds  he  fell  upon 


Nisus  and  Euryalus  223 

Euryalus'  prostrate  corpse,  and  a  smile  was  on  his  lips, 
for  in  death  they  were  not  divided. 

Such  was  the  tale  that  Virgil  sang,  and  the  prophecy 
that  he  uttered  nigh  upon  two  thousand  years  ago  has 
been  fulfilled: 

"O  happy  pair,  if  aught  my  verse  avail, 
Your  memory  through  the  ages  shall  not  fail, 
While  on  the  Capitol  Rome's  flag  is  seen 
And  Rome  holds  sway,  Italia's  Empress  Queen." 


ULYSSES  IN  HADES 

BY    M.    M.    BIRD 

BEFORE  he  left  fair  Circe's  isle  Ulysses  reminded 
the  goddess  of  her  promise  to  speed  them  on  their 
homeward  way.  This,  she  assured  him,  not  she  but 
the  Fates  refused.  Nor  could  they  hope  to  breathe  their 
native  air  till  a  long  and  toilsome  journey  had  been  taken, 
a  journey  that  would  lead  them  down  even  to  the  dread 
realms  of  Death.  "  But  there,"  she  said,  "  you  shall  seek 
out  blind  Tiresias,  the  Theban  bard;  though  his  eyes  be 
blind  his  mind  is  filled  with  prophetic  light.  He  will 
tell  you  all  you  seek  to  know  of  your  future  and  the  fate 
of  those  you  love." 

Brave  as  he  was,  Ulysses  shuddered  at  the  awful  road 
he  had  to  tread,  and  appealed  to  Circe  for  further  aid  in 
this  adventure.  So  she  told  him  the  landmarks  to  guide 
him  on  his  way,  and  instructed  him  what  to  do  when 
he  reached  the  realms  of  Tartarus.  And  when  morn 
broke  he  summoned  his  companions  to  set  forth.  They 
came  in  haste  and  joy. 

But  one  was  missing.  Elpenor,  the  youngest  of  the 
band,  a  wild  and  senseless  youth,  had  climbed  to  the 
housetop  to  breathe  the  cold  air  after  a  debauch  lasting 
far  into  the  night.  At  the  sudden  tumult  of  departure 
he  was  roused,  and  hastening  down  he  missed  the 
ladder  and  fell  headlong  from  the  roof  and  broke  his 
neck. 

Ignorant  of  his  fate,  the  rest  crowded  eagerly  round 

224 


Ulysses  in  Hades  225 

their  leader,  till  his  few  and  sober  words  told  them  that 
not  yet  the  joys  of  homecoming  awaited  them,  but  it 
was  decreed  that  first  they  should  seek  the  awful  shade 
of  Tiresias  in  the  dark  and  dreary  realms  of  Death. 
Sadly  then  upon  that  shore  they  made  their  sacrifices  to 
the  immortal  gods,  and  sadly  embarked  in  the  waiting 
ship  and  spread  their  sails  to  the  freshening  breeze. 

As  the  sun  sank,  and  all  the  ways  were  darkened,  they 
reached  the  utmost  bounds  of  Ocean,  a  lonely  land,  where 
the  sun  never  shines,  where  darkness  broods  perpetually 
over  bare  and  rocky  crags,  the  abode  of  the  Cimmerians. 
Off  their  desolate  shore  Ulysses  cast  anchor,  and  leap 
ing  from  his  ship,  descried  the  awful  chasm  that  leads 
to  the  realms  of  the  dead. 

His  two  companions  bore  with  them  the  black  sheep  as 
Circe  had  bidden,  and  Ulysses  drew  his  shining  sword 
and  carved  a  great  trench,  a  cubit  long  and  wide,  in  the 
black  earth.  This  was  filled  with  wine,  milk,  and  honey, 
and  the  blood  of  the  newly  offered  sacrifices.  Thus,  with 
solemn  rites  and  holy  vows,  they  invoked  the  nations 
of  the  dead.  And  lo!  among  the  frowning  caverns  and 
all  along  the  dusky  shores  appeared  the  phantom  shapes 
of  unsubstantial  ghosts.  Old  and  young,  warriors 
ghastly  with  wounds,  matrons  and  maids,  rich  and  poor, 
they  crowded  about  the  trench  filled  with  the  reeking 
blood  of  sacrifice.  But  Ulysses  in  terror  brandished  his 
sword  above  the  flowing  blood,  and  the  pale  throngs 
started  back  and  stood  silently  about  him. 

Then  he  saw  Elpenor,  new  to  the  realms  of  Death. 
Astonished,  he  demanded  of  the  shade  how  it  was  that 
he  had  outrun  their  swift  sail,  and  was  found  wandering 
with  the  dead.  To  which  the  youth  replied  that  his  feet, 
unsteady  through  excess  of  wine,  had  betrayed  him  and 


226  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

sent  him  headlong  from  the  tower,  and  as  he  fell  his  neck 
was  broken  and  his  soul  plunged  in  Hell. 

But  he  implored  Ulysses,  by  all  he  held  most  dear,  to 
give  his  unburied  limbs  a  peaceful  grave,  and  set  up  a 
barrow,  and  on  it  plant  his  oar  to  show  that  he  had 
been  one  of  Ulysses'  crew.  And  Ulysses  granted  the 
boon,  and  the  spirit  of  Elpenor  departed  content. 

Then,  as  Ulysses  sat  watching  the  trench,  he  saw  the 
shade  of  his  royal  mother,  Anticlea,  approach ;  but  though 
the  tears  bedewed  his  cheek  at  the  sight,  the  pale  shade 
stood  regardless  of  her  son. 

Next  came  the  mighty  Theban,  Tiresias,  bearing  a 
scepter  of  gold ;  and  he  knew  him  and  spake :  "  Why,  son 
of  Laertes,  wanderest  thou  from  cheerful  day  to  tread 
this  sorrowful  path?  What  angry  gods  have  led  thee, 
alive,  to  be  companion  of  the  dead  ?  If  thou  wilt  sheathe 
thy  sword  I  will  relate  thy  future  and  the  high  purposes 
of  Heaven  towards  thee." 

Ulysses  sheathed  his  glittering  blade,  and  the  seer  bent 
down  and  drank  of  the  dark  blood.  Then  he  foretold  all 
the  strange  disasters  that  would  threaten  and  detain 
Ulysses  on  his  homeward  way.  He  told  how  at  length 
he  alone  of  all  his  crew  would  survive  to  reach  his  coun 
try — there  to  find  his  labors  not  yet  at  an  end,  with  foes 
in  power  at  his  court,  lordly  suitors  besieging  his  wife, 
and  wasting  his  substance  in  riot  and  debauch.  But  a 
peaceful  end  to  his  long  and  toilsome  life  should  come 
at  last,  and  see  him  sink  to  the  grave  blessed  by  all  his 
people.  "  This  is  thy  life  to  come,  and  this  is  Fate/' 
said  the  seer. 

To  whom  Ulysses,  unmoved,  made  answer :  "  All  that 
the  gods  ordain  the  wise  endure." 

So  the  prophet  went  his  way,  and  Ulysses  waited  on 


Ulysses  in  Hades  227 

for  his  mother  to  come.  And  anon,  Anticlea  came  and 
stooped  and  drank  of  the  dark  blood,  and  straightway 
all  the  mother  in  her  soul  awoke,  and  she  addressed  her 
son,  asking  whence  he  came  and  why. 

"  To  seek  Tiresias,  and  learn  my  doom/'  Ulysses 
answered,  "  for  I  have  been  a  roamer  and  an  exile  from 
home  ever  since  the  fall  of  Troy."  Then  he  asked  her 
how  her  own  death  had  happened,  whether  his  good  fa 
ther  Laertes  still  lived,  if  Telemachus  his  son  ruled  in 
Ithaca,  and  if  Penelope  yet  waited  and  watched  for  her 
absent  lord,  or  if  she  had  taken  a  new  mate. 

To  all  his  questions  Anticlea  made  answer  with  tender 
pity.  Penelope,  his  faithful  wife,  still  mourned  for  him 
uncomforted ;  Telemachus,  now  almost  grown  to  man 
hood,  ruled  his  realm ;  and  old  Laertes,  bowed  with  grief, 
only  waited  in  sorrow  for  the  release  of  the  tomb,  since 
his  son  Ulysses  returned  no  more.  She  herself,  his 
mother,  had  died  of  a  broken  heart;  for  him  she  lived, 
and  when  he  came  not,  for  love  of  him  she  died. 

Ulysses,  deeply  moved,  strove  thrice  to  clasp  her  in 
his  arms,  and  thrice  she  slipped  from  his  embrace,  like 
a  shadow  or  a  dream.  In  vain  he  begged  that  his  fond 
arms  might  enfold  the  parent  so  tenderly  loved,  that  he 
might  know  it  was  she  herself  and  no  empty  image  sent 
by  Hell's  queen  to  mock  his  sorrow.  But  the  pensive 
ghost  admonished  him  that  such  were  all  spirits  when 
they  had  quit  their  mortal  bodies.  No  substance  of  the 
man  remained,  said  she:  all  had  been  devoured  by  the 
funeral  flames  and  scattered  by  the  winds  to  the  empty 
air.  It  was  but  the  soul  that  flew,  like  a  dream,  to  the 
infernal  regions.  "  But  go,"  she  adjured  him;  "  haste  to 
climb  the  steep  ascent;  regain  the  day  and  seek  your 
bride,  to  recount  to  her  the  horrors  and  the  laws  of  Hell." 


228  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

As  she  ceased  and  disappeared,  a  cloud  of  phantoms, 
wives  and  daughters  of  kings  and  heroes,  flitted  round 
the  visitant  of  earth.  Dauntless  he  waved  his  sword ;  the 
ghostly  crew  shrank  away  and  dared  not  drink  of  the 
wine  in  the  trench  at  his  feet.  They  passed,  and  to 
each  other  Ulysses  heard  them  recount  their  names  and 
needs.  There  he  saw  Alcmena,  mother  of  Alcides; 
Megara,  wife  of  Hercules,  who  was  slain  by  him  in  his 
madness;  the  beautiful  Chloris,  Antiope,  and  Leda, 
mother  of  the  deathless  twins  Castor  and  Pollux,  who 
live  and  die  alternately,  the  one  in  Heaven  and  the  other 
in  Hell,  the  favored  sons  of  Jove. 

There  walked  Phaedra,  shedding  unceasing  tears  of 
remorse  for  her  slain  love,  and  near  her  mournful 
Ariadne.  All  these,  and  many  more,  Ulysses  recognized 
in  that  pale  procession  of  departed  spirits.  When  they 
had  been  summoned  back  to  the  black  halls  of  Proser 
pine,  the  forms  of  the  heroes  slain  by  the  foul  yEgisthus 
came  in  sight.  High  above  them  all  towered  great 
Agamemnon.  He  drank  the  wine  and  knew  his  friend; 
with  tears  Ulysses  greeted  him  and  inquired  what  relent 
less  doom,  what  fate  of  war,  or  mischance  upon  the 
ocean,  had  thrust  his  spirit  into  Hell  ?  And  Agamemnon 
told  him  all  the  dreadful  story  of  his  return  from  Troy, 
and  the  treachery  of  his  wife  Clytemnestra  and  her  lover, 
who  slew  him  as  he  feasted,  and  with  him  all  his  friends ; 
most  pitiful  of  all,  the  voice  of  the  dying  Cassandra, 
slain  at  his  side  as  he  himself  lay  dying,  still  rang  in 
his  ears. 

And  Ulysses  answered  him :  "  What  ills  hath  Jupiter 
wreaked  on  the  house  of  Atreus  through  the  counsels  of 
women !  " 

"  Be    warned,"    replied    Agamemnon,    "  and    tell    no 


Ulysses  in  Hades  229 

woman  all  that  is  in  thy  heart ;  not  even  Penelope,  though 
she  is  discreet  and  true  above  all  other  women  and  will 
not  plot  thy  death."  And  he  grieved  for  his  own  son 
Orestes,  on  whom  he  had  never  looked,  envying  his 
friend  an  heir  so  wise  and  brave  as  the  young 
Telemachus. 

Then  he  saw  Achilles  and  Patroclus,  approaching 
through  the  gloom.  Achilles  knew  his  friend  and  has 
tened  to  his  side.  "  Oh  mortal,  overbold,"  he  asked, 
"  how  durst  thou  come  down  living  to  the  realms  of 
the  dead  ?  "  Ulysses  told  him  how  he  had  come,  though 
living,  to  seek  counsel  of  the  dead. 

But  Achilles  made  answer : 

"Rather  would  I,  in  the  sun's  warmth  divine, 
Moil  as  a  churl,  who  drags  his  days  in  grief, 
Than  the  whole  lordship  of  the  dead  were  mine." 

Then,  like  Agamemnon,  he  demanded  news  of  his  son, 
and  Ulysses  charmed  the  father's  heart  by  telling  of  the 
gallant  deeds  of  Neoptolemus  at  Troy  town,  and  how 
he  had  escaped  unscathed  from  the  fight. 

Achilles  glowed  with  pride  and  delight;  and  as  he 
joined  the  illustrious  shades  of  the  warriors  about  him, 
Ulysses  sought  the  side  of  Ajax,  whom  he  perceived 
standing  apart  in  gloom  and  sullenness.  His  lost  honors 
perpetually  stung  his  mind,  though  the  fight  had  been 
fair  and  Ulysses  had  been  judged  the  victor  by  the 
Trojans.  Ulysses  seeing  him  stand  thus  mournfully 
aloof,  addressed  him  with  tender  sorrow.  "  Still  burns 
thy  rage  ?  Can  brave  souls  bear  malice  e'en  after  death  ?  " 
he  asked  him  sadly.  But  for  all  his  appeals  the  resentful 
shade  turned  from  him  with  disdain,  and  silently  stalked 
away.  Touched  to  the  depths  of  a  generous  heart 


230  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

Ulysses  started  in  pursuit  through  the  black  and  winding 
ways  of  Death,  to  find  and  force  him  to  reply  to  his 
earnest  questioning,  but  on  the  way  such  strange  and 
awful  scenes  met  his  astonished  eyes  as  caused  him  to 
pause  and  turn  aside. 

There  was  huge  Orion,  whirling  aloft  his  ponderous 
mace  of  brass  to  crush  his  savage  prey. 

There  was  Tityus,  the  son  of  Earth,  who  for  offering 
violence  to  the  goddess  Latona  was  shot  dead  by  her 
children,  and  lay  for  ever  in  Hell  in  fetters  while  vul 
tures  gnawed  at  his  liver. 

Again  he  looked,  and  beheld  Tantalus,  whose  awful 
groans  echoed  through  the  roofless  caverns.  When  to 
the  stream  that  rippled  past  him  he  applied  his  parched 
lips,  it  fled  before  he  could  taste  of  it.  Fruit  of  all  kinds 
hung  round  him — pomegranates,  figs,  and  ripening  ap 
ples  ;  but  if  he  strove  to  seize  the  fruit,  the  baffling  wind 
would  toss  the  branch  high  out  of  his  reach. 

When  in  horror  at  the  sight  of  these  torments,  Ulysses 
turned  aside,  he  saw  a  laboring  figure,  Sisyphus,  who 
with  weary  steps  up  a  high  hill  was  heaving  a  huge 
round  stone.  When,  with  infinite  straining,  he  reached 
at  length  the  summit,  the  boulder,  poising  but  an  instant, 
bounded  down  the  steep  again  with  a  wild  impetuous 
rush,  and  dragged  with  it  Sisyphus  into  the  depths  of  an 
awful  cavern.  Thence  once  again,  with  sweat  and  agony, 
he  must  renew  his  toil  and  creep  with  painful  labor  up 
the  slope,  thrusting  the  rock  before  him.  This  the  pun 
ishment  for  a  life  of  avaricious  greed,  devoted  to  a  piti 
less  unassuageable  lust  for  gold  and  power. 

And  farther  on  great  Hercules  was  seen,  a  towering 
specter  of  gigantic  form.  Gloomy  as  night  he  stood,  in 
act  to  shoot  an  arrow  from  his  monstrous  bow.  With 


Ulysses  in  Hades  231 

grim  visage  and  terrible  look  he  lamented  his  wrongs 
and  woes,  and  then  abruptly  turning,  strode  away. 

When  Ulysses,  curious  to  view  the  kings  of  ancient 
days  and  all  the  endless  ranks  of  the  mighty  dead,  would 
have  stood  strong  in  this  resolve  to  watch  them,  a  great 
swarm  of  specters  rose  from  deepest  Hell.  With  hide 
ous  yells  they  flew  at  him;  they  gaped  at  him  and  gib 
bered  in  such  menacing  tones  that  his  blood  froze  in 
his  veins.  In  fear  lest  the  Gorgon,  rising  from  the  depths 
of  the  infernal  lake,  with  her  crown  of  hissing  snakes 
about  her  brow,  should  transfix  him  to  stone,  he  turned 
and  fled. 

He  climbed  the  steep  ascent  and  joined  his  waiting 
shipmates.  They  set  sail  with  all  haste  to  leave  the  dread 
Cimmerian  shore,  and  a  fair  wind  sped  them  on  their 
backward  way. 


CIRCE'S  PALACE 

BY   NATHANIEL   HAWTHORNE 

A'TER  escaping  from  the  Cyclopes,  and  enduring 
many  other  perils  by  land  and  sea  in  the  course 
of  his  weary  voyage  to  Ithaca,  Ulysses  arrived  at  a  green 
island,  the  name  of  which  was  unknown  to  him,  and  was 
glad  to  moor  his  tempest-beaten  bark  in  a  quiet  cove. 
But  he  had  encountered  so  many  dangers  from  giants, 
and  one-eyed  Cyclopes,  and  monsters  of  the  sea  and  land, 
that  he  could  not  help  dreading  some  mischief,  even  in 
this  pleasant  and  seemingly  solitary  spot.  For  two  days, 
therefore,  the  poor  weather-worn  voyagers  kept  quiet, 
and  either  stayed  on  board  of  their  vessel,  or  merely 
crept  along  under  the  cliffs  that  bordered  the  shore ;  and 
to  keep  themselves  alive,  they  dug  shell-fish  out  of  the 
sand,  and  sought  for  any  little  rill  of  fresh  water  that 
might  be  running  towards  the  sea. 

Before  the  two  days  were  spent,  they  grew  very  weary 
of  this  kind  of  life;  for  the  followers  of  King  Ulysses 
were  terrible  gormandizers,  and  pretty  sure  to  grumble 
if  they  missed  their  regular  meals,  and  their  irregular 
ones  besides.  Their  stock  of  provisions  was  quite  ex 
hausted,  and  even  the  shell-fish  began  to  get  scarce,  so 
that  they  had  now  to  choose  between  starving  to  death 
or  venturing  into  the  interior  of  the  island,  where  per 
haps  some  huge  three-headed  dragon,  or  other  horrible 
monster,  had  his  den. 

But  King  Ulysses  was  a  bold  man  as  well  as  a  pru- 

232 


Circe's  Palace 


233 


dent  one;  and  on  the  third  morning  he  determined  to 
discover  what  sort  of  a  place  the  island  was,  and  whether 
it  were  possible  to  obtain  a  supply  of  food  for  the  hungry 
mouths  of  his  companions.  So,  taking  a  spear  in  his 
hand,  he  clambered  to  the  summit  of  a  cliff  and  gazed 
round  about  him.  At  a  distance,  towards  the  center  of 
the  island,  he  beheld  the  stately  towers  of  what  seemed 
to  be  a  palace,  built  of  snow-white  marble,  and  rising 
in  the  midst  of  a  grove  of  lofty  trees.  The  thick  branches 
of  these  trees  stretched  across  the  front  of  the  edifice, 
and  more  than  half  concealed  it,  although,  from  the  por 
tion  which  he  saw,  Ulysses  judged  it  to  be  spacious  and 
exceedingly  beautiful,  and  probably  the  residence  of  some 
great  nobleman  or  prince.  A  blue  smoke  went  curling  up 
from  the  chimney,  and  was  almost  the  pleasantest  part 
of  the  spectacle  to  Ulysses.  For,  from  the  abundance 
of  this  smoke,  it  was  reasonable  to  conclude  that  there 
was  a  good  fire  in  the  kitchen,  and  that,  at  dinner-time, 
a  plentiful  banquet  would  be  served  up  to  the  inhabitants 
of  the  palace,  and  to  whatever  guests  might  happen  to 
drop  in. 

With  so  agreeable  a  prospect  before  him,  Ulysses  fan 
cied  that  he  could  not  do  better  than  to  go  straight  to  the 
palace  gate,  and  tell  the  master  of  it  that  there  was  a 
crew  of  poor  shipwrecked  mariners,  not  far  off,  who  had 
eaten  nothing  for  a  day  or  two  save  a  few  clams  and 
oysters,  and  would  therefore  be  thankful  for  a  little 
food.  And  the  prince  or  nobleman  must  be  a  very  stingy 
curmudgeon,  to  be  sure,  if,  at  least,  when  his  own  dinner 
was  over,  he  would  not  bid  them  welcome  to  the  broken 
victuals  from  the  table. 

Pleasing  himself  with  this  idea,  King  Ulysses  had  made 
a  few  steps  in  the  direction  of  the  palace,  when  there 


234  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

was  a  great  twittering  and  chirping  from  the  branch  of 
a  neighboring  tree.  A  moment  afterwards  a  bird  came 
flying  towards  him,  and  hovered  in  the  air,  so  as  almost 
to  brush  his  face  with  its  wings.  It  was  a  very  pretty 
little  bird,  with  purple  wings  and  body,  and  yellow  legs, 
and  a  circle  of  golden  feathers  round  its  neck,  and  on 
its  head  a  golden  tuft,  which  looked  like  a  king's  crown 
in  miniature.  Ulysses  tried  to  catch  the  bird.  But  it 
fluttered  nimbly  out  of  his  reach,  still  chirping  in  a  pite 
ous  tone,  as  if  it  could  have  told  a  lamentable  story, 
had  it  only  been  gifted  with  human  language.  And  when 
he  attempted  to  drive  it  away,  the  bird  flew  no  farther 
than  the  bough  of  the  next  tree,  and  again  came  fluttering 
about  his  head,  with  its  doleful  chirp,  as  soon  as  he 
showed  a  purpose  of  going  forward. 

"  Have  you  anything  to  tell  me,  little  bird  ? "  asked 
Ulysses. 

"  Peep !  "  said  the  bird,  "  peep,  peep,  pe — weep !  " 
And  nothing  else  would  it  say,  but  only,  "  Peep,  peep, 
pe — weep !  "  in  a  melancholy  cadence,  and  over  and  over 
and  over  again.  As  often  as  Ulysses  moved  forward, 
however,  the  bird  showed  the  greatest  alarm,  and  did  its 
best  to  drive  him  back  with  the  anxious  flutter  of  its 
purple  wings.  Its  unaccountable  behavior  made  him 
conclude,  at  last,  that  the  bird  knew  of  some  danger 
that  awaited  him,  and  which  must  needs  be  very  terrible, 
beyond  all  question,  since  it  moved  even  a  little  fowl 
to  feel  compassion  for  a  human  being.  So  he  resolved, 
for  the  present,  to  return  to  the  vessel,  and  tell  his  com 
panions  what  he  had  seen. 

This  appeared  to  satisfy  the  bird.  As  soon  as  Ulysses 
turned  back,  it  ran  up  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  and  began 
to  pick  insects  out  of  the  bark  with  its  long,  sharp  bill; 


Circe's  Palace  235 

for  it  was  a  kind  of  woodpecker,  you  must  know,  and 
had  to  get  its  living  in  the  same  manner  as  other  birds 
of  that  species.  But  every  little  while,  as  it  pecked  at 
the  bark  of  the  tree,  the  purple  bird  bethought  itself  of 
some  secret  sorrow,  and  repeated  its  plaintive  note  of 
"  Peep,  peep,  pe — weep !  " 

On  his  way  to  the  shore,  Ulysses  had  the  good  luck  to 
kill  a  large  stag.  Taking  it  on  his  shoulders  he  lugged  it 
along  with  him,  and  flung  it  down  before  his  hungry 
companions. 

But  the  next  morning  their  appetites  were  as  sharp 
as  ever.  They  looked  at  Ulysses,  as  if  they  expected  him 
to  clamber  up  the  cliff  again  and  come  back  with  another 
fat  deer  upon  his  shoulders.  Instead  of  setting  out,  how 
ever,  he  summoned  the  whole  crew  together,  and  told 
them  it  was  in  vain  to  hope  that  he  could  kill  a  stag 
every  day  for  their  dinner,  and  therefore  it  was  advis 
able  to  think  of  some  other  mode  of  satisfying  their 
hunger. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "  when  I  was  on  the  cliff  yesterday, 
I  discovered  that  this  island  is  inhabited.  At  a  consid 
erable  distance  from  the  shore  stood  a  marble  palace, 
which  appeared  to  be  very  spacious,  and  had  a  great  deal 
of  smoke  curling  out  of  one  of  its  chimneys." 

"  Aha !  "  muttered  some  of  his  companions,  smacking 
their  lips.  "  That  smoke  must  have  come  from  the 
kitchen  fire.  There  was  a  good  dinner  on  the  spit;  and 
no  doubt  there  will  be  as  good  a  one  to-day." 

"  But,"  continued  the  wise  Ulysses,  "  you  must  re 
member,  my  good  friends,  our  misadventure  in  the  cav 
ern  of  one-eyed  Polyphemus,  the  Cyclops!  To  tell  you 
the  truth,  if  we  go  to  yonder  palace,  there  can  be  no 
question  that  we  shall  make  our  appearance  at  the  dinner- 


236  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

table ;  but  whether  seated  as  guests,  or  served  up  as  food, 
is  a  point  to  be  seriously  considered." 

"  Either  way/'  murmured  some  of  the  hungriest  of  the 
crew,  "  it  will  be  better  than  starvation ;  particularly  if 
one  could  be  sure  of  being  well  fattened  beforehand,  and 
daintily  cooked  afterwards." 

"  That  is  a  matter  of  taste,"  said  King  Ulysses,  "  and, 
for  my  own  part,  neither  the  most  careful  fattening  nor 
the  daintiest  of  cookery  would  reconcile  me  to  being 
dished  at  last.  My  proposal  is,  therefore,  that  we  divide 
ourselves  into  two  equal  parties,  and  ascertain,  by  draw 
ing  lots,  which  of  the  two  shall  go  to  the  palace  and  beg 
for  food  and  assistance.  If  these  can  be  obtained,  all 
is  well.  If  not,  and  if  the  inhabitants  prove  as  inhos 
pitable  as  Polyphemus,  or  the  Lsestrygons,  then  there 
will  but  half  of  us  perish,  and  the  remainder  may  set 
sail  and  escape." 

As  nobody  objected  to  this  scheme,  Ulysses  proceeded 
to  count  the  whole  band,  and  found  that  there  were  forty- 
six  men  including  himself.  He  then  numbered  off 
twenty-two  of  them,  and  put  Eurylochus  (who  was  one 
of  his  chief  officers,  and  second  only  to  himself  in 
sagacity)  at  their  head.  Ulysses  took  command  of  the 
remaining  twenty-two  men  in  person.  Then,  taking  off 
his  helmet,  he  put  two  shells  into  it,  on  one  of  which  was 
written,  "  Go,"  and  on  the  other,  "  Stay."  Another  per 
son  now  held  the  helmet,  while  Ulysses  and  Eurylochus 
drew  out  each  a  shell ;  and  the  word  "  Go  "  was  found 
written  on  that  which  Eurylochus  had  drawn.  In  this 
manner  it  was  decided  that  Ulysses  and  his  twenty-two 
men  were  to  remain  at  the  seaside  until  the  other  party 
should  have  found  out  what  sort  of  treatment  they  might 
expect  at  the  mysterious  palace.  As  there  was  no  help 


Circe's  Palace  237 

for  it,  Eurylochus  immediately  set  forth  at  the  head  of 
his  twenty-two  followers,  who  went  off  in  a  very  melan 
choly  state  of  mind,  leaving  their  friends  in  hardly  bet 
ter  spirits  than  themselves. 

No  sooner  had  they  clambered  up  the  cliff  than  they 
discerned  the  tall  marble  towers  of  the  palace,  ascending, 
as  white  as  snow,  out  of  the  lovely  green  shadow  of  the 
trees  which  surrounded  it.  A  gush  of  smoke  came  from 
a  chimney  in  the  rear  of  the  edifice.  The  vapor  rose 
high  in  the  air,  and,  meeting  with  a  breeze,  was  wafted 
seaward,  and  made  to  pass  over  the  heads  of  the 
hungry  mariners.  When  people's  appetites  are  keen, 
they  have  a  very  quick  scent  for  anything  savory  in 
the  wind. 

"  That  smoke  comes  from  the  kitchen !  "  cried  one  of 
them,  turning  up  his  nose  as  high  as  he  could,  and  snuff 
ing  eagerly.  "  And,  as  sure  as  I'm  a  half -starved  vaga 
bond,  I  smell  roast  meat  in  it." 

"  Pig,  roast  pig !  "  said  another.  "  Ah,  the  dainty  lit 
tle  porker!  My  mouth  waters  for  him." 

"  Let  us  make  haste,"  cried  the  others,  "  or  we  shall 
be  too  late  for  the  good  cheer !  " 

But  scarcely  had  they  made  half  a  dozen  steps  from 
the  edge  of  the  cliff,  when  a  bird  came  fluttering  to  meet 
them.  It  was  the  same  pretty  little  bird,  with  the  purple 
wings  and  body,  the  yellow  legs,  the  golden  collar  round 
its  neck,  and  the  crown-like  tuft  upon  its  head,  whose 
behavior  had  so  much  surprised  Ulysses.  It  hovered 
about  Eurylochus,  and  almost  brushed  his  face  with  its 
wings. 

"  Peep,  peep,  pe — weep !  "  chirped  the  bird. 

So  plaintively  intelligent  was  the  sound,  that  it  seemed 
as  if  the  little  creature  were  going  to  break  its  heart  with 


238  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

some  mighty  secret  that  it  had  to  tell,  and  only  this  one 
poor  note  to  tell  it  with. 

"  My  pretty  bird,"  said  Eurylochus — for  he  was  a  wary 
person,  and  let  no  token  of  harm  escape  his  notice — "  my 
pretty  bird,  who  sent  you  hither?  And  what  is  the 
message  which  you  bring?" 

"  Peep,  peep,  pe— weep !  "  replied  the  bird,  very  sor 
rowfully. 

Then  it  flew  towards  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  and  looked 
round  at  them,  as  if  exceedingly  anxious  that  they  should 
return  whence  they  came.  Eurylochus  and  a  few  others 
were  inclined  to  turn  back.  They  could  not  help  sus 
pecting  that  the  purple  bird  must  be  aware  of  something 
mischievous  that  would  befall  them  at  the  palace,  and 
the  knowledge  of  which  affected  its  airy  spirit  with  a 
human  sympathy  and  sorrow.  But  the  rest  of  the  voy 
agers,  snuffing  up  the  smoke  from  the  palace  kitchen, 
ridiculed  the  idea  of  returning  to  the  vessel.  One  of 
them  (more  brutal  than  his  fellows,  and  the  most  notori 
ous  gormandizer  in  the  whole  crew)  said  such  a  cruel 
and  wicked  thing,  that  I  wonder  the  mere  thought  did 
not  turn  him  into  a  wild  beast,  in  shape,  as  he  already 
was  in  his  nature. 

"  This  troublesome  and  impertinent  little  fowl,"  said 
he,  "  would  make  a  delicate  titbit  to  begin  dinner  with. 
Just  one  plump  morsel,  melting  away  between  the  teeth. 
If  he  comes  within  my  reach,  I'll  catch  him,  and  give 
him  to  the  palace  cook  to  be  roasted  on  a  skewer." 

The  words  were  hardly  out  of  his  mouth,  before  the 
purple  bird  flew  away,  crying,  "  Peep,  peep,  pe — weep !  " 
more  dolorously  than  ever. 

"  That  bird,"  remarked  Eurylochus,  "  knows  more  than 
we  do  about  what  awaits  us  at  the  palace." 


Circe's  Palace  239 

"  Come  on,  then/'  cried  his  comrades,  "  and  we'll  soon 
know  as  much  as  he  does." 

The  party,  accordingly,  went  onward  through  the  green 
and  pleasant  wood.  Every  little  while  they  caught  new 
glimpses  of  the  marble  palace,  which  looked  more  and 
more  beautiful  the  nearer  they  approached  it. 

At  one  place  they  came  to  a  crystal  spring,  and  paused 
to  drink  at  it  for  want  of  liquor  which  they  liked  better. 
Looking  into  its  bosom,  they  beheld  their  own  faces  dimly 
reflected,  but  so  extravagantly  distorted  by  the  gush  and 
motion  of  the  water,  that  each  one  of  them  appeared  to 
be  laughing  at  himself  and  all  his  companions.  So  ridicu 
lous  were  these  images  of  themselves,  indeed,  that  they 
did  really  laugh  aloud,  and  could  hardly  be  grave  again 
as  soon  as  they  wished.  And  after  they  had  drank,  they 
grew  still  merrier  than  before. 

"  It  has  a  twang  of  the  wine-cask  in  it,"  said  one, 
smacking  his  lips. 

"  Make  haste !  "  cried  his  fellows ;  "  we'll  find  the  wine- 
cask  itself  at  the  palace;  and  that  will  be  better  than  a 
hundred  crystal  fountains." 

Then  they  quickened  their  pace,  and  capered  for  joy 
at  the  thought  of  the  savory  banquet  at  which  they 
hoped  to  be  guests.  But  Eurylochus  told  them  that  he 
felt  as  if  he  were  walking  in  a  dream. 

"  If  I  am  really  awake,"  continued  he,  "  then,  in  my 
opinion,  we  are  on  the  point  of  meeting  with  some 
stranger  adventure  than  any  that  befell  us  in  the  cave 
of  Polyphemus,  or  among  the  gigantic  man-eating  Lses- 
trygons,  or  in  the  windy  palace  of  King  ^Eolus,  which 
stands  on  a  brazen-walled  island.  This  kind  of  dreamy 
feeling  always  comes  over  me  before  any  wonderful  oc 
currence.  If  you  take  my  advice,  you  will  turn  back." 


240  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

"  No,  no,"  answered  his  comrades,  snuffing  the  air,  in 
which  the  scent  from  the  palace  kitchen  was  now  very 
perceptible.  "  We  would  not  turn  back,  though  we  were 
certain  that  the  king  of  the  Lsestrygons,  as  big  as  a  moun 
tain,  would  sit  at  the  head  of  the  table,  and  huge 
Polyphemus,  the  one-eyed  Cyclops,  at  its  foot." 

At  length  they  came  within  full  sight  of  the  palace, 
which  proved  to  be  very  large  and  lofty,  with  a  great 
number  of  airy  pinnacles  upon  its  roof.  Though  it  was 
now  midday,  and  the  sun  shone  brightly  over  the  marble 
front,  yet  its  snowy  whiteness,  and  its  fantastic  style  of 
architecture,  made  it  look  unreal,  like  the  frostwork  on 
a  window  pane,  or  like  the  shapes  of  castles  which  one 
sees  among  the  clouds  by  moonlight.  But,  just  then, 
a  puff  of  wind  brought  down  the  smoke  of  the  kitchen 
chimney  among  them,  and  caused  each  man  to  smell  the 
odor  of  the  dish  that  he  liked  best  and,  after  scenting  it, 
they  thought  everything  else  moonshine,  and  nothing  real 
save  this  palace,  and  save  the  banquet  that  was  evidently 
ready  to  be  served  up  in  it. 

So  they  hastened  their  steps  towards  the  portal,  but 
had  not  got  halfway  across  the  wide  lawn,  when  a  pack 
of  lions,  tigers,  and  wolves  came  bounding  to  meet  them. 
The  terrified  mariners  started  back,  expecting  no  better 
fate  than  to  be  torn  to  pieces  and  devoured.  To  their 
surprise  and  joy,  however,  these  wild  beasts  merely 
capered  around  them,  wagging  their  tails,  offering  their 
heads  to  be  stroked  and  patted,  and  behaving  just  like  so 
many  well-bred  house-dogs,  when  they  wish  to  express 
their  delight  at  meeting  their  master  or  their  master's 
friends.  The  biggest  lion  licked  the  feet  of  Eurylochus ; 
and  every  other  lion,  and  every  wolf  and  tiger,  singled 
out  one  of  his  two-and-twenty  followers,  whom  the 


Circe's  Palace  241 

beast  fondled  as  if  he  loved  him  better  than  a  beef- 
bone. 

But,  for  all  that,  Eurylochus  imagined  that  he  saw 
something  fierce  and  savage  in  their  eyes;  nor  would  he 
have  been  surprised,  at  any  moment,  to  feel  the  big  lion's 
terrible  claws,  or  to  see  each  of  the  tigers  make  a  deadly 
spring,  or  each  wolf  leap  at  the  throat  of  the  man  whom 
he  had  fondled.  Their  mildness  seemed  unreal,  and  a 
mere  freak ;  but  their  savage  nature  was  as  true  as  their 
teeth  and  claws. 

Nevertheless,  the  men  went  safely  across  the  lawn 
with  the  wild  beasts  frisking  about  them,  and  doing  no 
manner  of  harm;  although,  as  they  mounted  the  steps 
of  the  palace,  you  might  possibly  have  heard  a  low  growl, 
particularly  from  the  wolves,  as  if  they  thought  it  a  pity, 
after  all,  to  let  the  strangers  pass  without  so  much  as 
tasting  what  they  were  made  of. 

Eurylochus  and  his  followers  now  passed  under  a 
lofty  portal,  and  looked  through  the  open  doorway  into 
the  interior  of  the  palace.  The  first  thing  that  they  saw 
was  a  spacious  hall,  and  a  fountain  in  the  middle  of  it, 
gushing  up  towards  the  ceiling  out  of  a  marble  basin,  and 
falling  back  into  it  with  a  continual  plash.  The  water 
of  this  fountain,  as  it  spouted  upward,  was  constantly 
taking  new  shapes,  not  very  distinctly,  but  plainly  enough 
for  a  nimble  fancy  to  recognize  what  they  were.  Now  it 
was  the  shape  of  a  man  in  a  long  robe,  the  fleecy  white 
ness  of  which  was  made  out  of  the  fountain's  spray; 
now  it  was  a  lion,  or  a  tiger,  or  a  wolf,  or  an  ass,  or, 
as  often  as  anything  else,  a  hog,  wallowing  in  the  mar 
ble  basin  as  if  it  were  his  sty.  But,  before  the  strangers 
had  time  to  look  closely  at  this  wonderful  sight,  their 
attention  was  drawn  off  by  a  very  sweet  and  agreeable 


242  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

sound.  A  woman's  voice  was  singing  melodiously  in 
another  room  of  the  palace,  and  with  her  voice  was  min 
gled  the  noise  of  a  loom,  at  which  she  was  probably 
seated,  weaving  a  rich  texture  of  cloth,  and  intertwining 
the  high  and  low  sweetness  of  her  voice  into  a  rich  tissue 
of  harmony. 

By  and  by  the  song  came  to  an  end;  and  then,  all  at 
once,  there  were  several  feminine  voices,  talking  airily 
and  cheerfully,  with  now  and  then  a  merry  burst  of 
laughter,  such  as  you  may  always  hear  when  three  or 
four  young  women  sit  at  work  together. 

"  What  a  sweet  song  that  was !  "  exclaimed  one  of  the 
voyagers. 

"  Too  sweet,  indeed,"  answered  Eurylochus,  shaking 
his  head.  "  Yet  it  was  not  so  sweet  as  the  song  of  the 
Sirens,  those  bird-like  damsels  who  wanted  to  tempt  us 
on  the  rocks  so  that  our  vessel  might  be  wrecked,  and 
our  bones  left  whitening  along  the  shore." 

"  But  just  listen  to  the  pleasant  voices  of  those  maidens, 
and  that  buzz  of  the  loom  as  the  shuttle  passes  to  and 
fro,"  said  another  comrade.  "  What  a  domestic,  house 
hold,  homelike  sound  it  is!  Ah,  before  that  weary 
siege  of  Troy,  I  used  to  hear  the  buzzing  loom 
and  the  women's  voices  under  my  own  roof.  Shall  I 
never  hear  them  again?  nor  taste  those  nice  little 
savory  dishes  which  my  dearest  wife  knew  how  to 
serve  up  ?  " 

"  Tush !  we  shall  fare  better  here,"  said  another.  "  But 
how  innocently  those  women  are  babbling  together,  with 
out  guessing  that  we  overhear  them!  And  mark  that 
richest  voice  of  all,  so  pleasant  and  familiar,  but  which 
yet  seems  to  have  the  authority  of  a  mistress  among 
them.  Let  us  show  ourselves  at  once.  What  harm  can 


Circe's  Palace  243' 

the  lady  of  the  palace  and  her  maidens  do  to  mariners 
and  warriors  like  us  ?  " 

"  Remember,"  said  Eurylochus,  "  that  it  was  a  young 
maiden  who  beguiled  three  of  our  friends  into  the  palace 
of  the  king  of  the  Laestrygons,  who  ate  up  one  of  them 
in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye." 

No  warning  or  persuasion,  however,  had  any  effect 
on  his  companions.  They  went  up  to  a  pair  of  folding 
doors  at  the  farther  end  of  the  hall,  and  throwing  them 
wide  open,  passed  into  the  next  room.  Eurylochus, 
meanwhile,  had  stepped  behind  a  pillar.  In  the  short 
moment,  while  the  folding  doors  opened  and  closed  again, 
he  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  very  beautiful  woman  rising 
from  the  loom,  and  coming  to  meet  the  poor  weather- 
beaten  wanderers,  with  a  hospitable  smile,  and  her  hand 
stretched  out  in  welcome.  There  were  four  other  young 
women,  who  joined  their  hands  and  danced  merrily  for 
ward,  making  gestures  of  obeisance  to  the  strangers. 
They  were  only  less  beautiful  than  the  lady  who  seemed 
to  be  their  mistress.  Yet  Eurylochus  fancied  that  one 
of  them  had  sea-green  hair,  and  that  the  close-fitting 
bodice  of  a  second  looked  like  the  bark  of  a  tree,  and 
that  both  the  others  had  something  odd  in  their  aspect, 
although  he  could  not  quite  determine  what  it  was,  in 
the  little  while  that  he  had  to  examine  them. 

The  folding  doors  swung  quickly  back,  and  left  him 
standing  behind  the  pillar,  in  the  solitude  of  the  outer 
hall.  There  Eurylochus  waited  until  he  was  quite  weary, 
and  listened  eagerly  to  every  sound,  but  without  hear 
ing  anything  that  could  help  him  to  guess  what  had  be 
come  of  his  friends.  Footsteps,  it  is  true,  seemed  to  be 
passing  and  repassing  in  other  parts  of  the  palace.  Then 
there  was  a  clatter  of  silver  dishes,  or  golden  ones,  which 


244  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

made  him  imagine  a  rich  feast  in  a  splendid  banqueting 
hall.  But  by  and  by  he  heard  a  tremendous  grunting  and 
squealing,  and  then  a  sudden  scampering,  like  that  of 
small,  hard  hoofs  over  a  marble  floor,  while  the  voices 
of  the  mistress  and  her  four  handmaidens  were  scream 
ing  all  together,  in  tones  of  anger  and  derision.  Euryl- 
ochus  could  not  conceive  what  had  happened,  unless  a 
drove  of  swine  had  broken  into  the  palace,  attracted  by 
the  smell  of  the  feast.  Chancing  to  cast  his  eyes  at  the 
fountain,  he  saw  that  it  did  not  shift  its  shape  as  for 
merly,  nor  looked  either  like  a  long-robed  man,  or  a 
lion,  a  tiger,  a  wolf,  or  an  ass.  It  looked  like  nothing 
but  a  hog,  which  lay  wallowing  in  the  marble  basin,  and 
filled  it  from  brim  to  brim. 

But  we  must  leave  the  prudent  Eurylochus  waiting  in 
the  outer  hall,  and  follow  his  friends  into  the  inner 
secrecy  of  the  palace.  As  soon  as  the  beautiful  woman 
saw  them,  she  arose  from  the  loom,  as  I  have  told  you, 
and  came  forward  smiling,  and  stretching  out  her  hand. 
She  took  the  hand  of  the  foremost  among  them,  and 
bade  him  and  the  whole  party  welcome. 

"  You  have  been  long  expected,  my  good  friends,"  said 
she.  "  I  and  my  maidens  are  well  acquainted  with  you, 
although  you  do  not  appear  to  recognize  us.  Look  at 
this  piece  of  tapestry,  and  judge  if  your  faces  must  not 
have  been  familiar  to  us." 

So  the  voyagers  examined  the  web  of  cloth  which 
the  beautiful  woman  had  been  weaving  in  her  loom ;  and, 
to  their  vast  astonishment,  they  saw  their  own  figures 
perfectly  represented  in  different  colored  threads.  It 
was  a  life-like  picture  of  their  recent  adventures,  show 
ing  them  in  the  cave  of  Polyphemus,  and  how  they  had 
put  out  his  one  great  moony  eye;  while  in  another  part 


Circe's  Palace  245 

of  the  tapestry  they  were  untying  the  leathern  bags, 
puffed  out  with  contrary  winds;  and  farther  on  they  be 
held  themselves  scampering  away  from  the  gigantic  king 
of  the  Lsestrygons,  who  had  caught  one  of  them  by  the 
leg.  Lastly,  there  they  were,  sitting  on  the  desolate 
shore  of  this  very  island,  hungry  and  downcast,  and 
looking  ruefully  at  the  bare  bones  of  the  stag  which  they 
devoured  yesterday.  This  was  as  far  as  the  work  had  yet 
proceeded;  but  when  the  beautiful  woman  should  again 
sit  down  at  her  loom,  she  would  probably  make  a  pic 
ture  of  what  had  since  happened  to  the  strangers,  and 
of  what  was  now  going  to  happen. 

"  You  see,"  she  said,  "  that  I  know  all  about  your 
troubles;  and  you  cannot  doubt  that  I  desire  to  make 
you  happy  for  as  long  a  time  as  you  may  remain  with 
me.  For  this  purpose,  my  honored  guests,  I  have  ordered 
a  banquet  to  be  prepared.  Fish,  fowl,  and  flesh,  roasted 
and  in  luscious  stews,  and  seasoned,  I  trust,  to  all  your 
tastes,  are  ready  to  be  served  up.  If  your  appetites  tell 
you  it  is  dinner-time,  then  come  with  me  to  the  festal 
saloon." 

At  this  kind  invitation  the  hungry  mariners  were  quite 
overjoyed;  and  one  of  them,  taking  upon  himself  to  be 
spokesman,  assured  their  hospitable  hostess  that  any 
hour  of  the  day  was  dinner-time  with  them,  whenever 
they  could  get  flesh  to  put  in  the  pot,  and  fire  to  boil 
it  with.  So  the  beautiful  woman  led  the  way;  and  the 
four  maidens  (one  of  them  had  sea-green  hair,  another 
a  bodice  of  oak  bark,  a  third  sprinkled  a  shower  of  wa 
ter  drops  from  her  fingers'  ends,  and  the  fourth  had 
some  other  oddity,  which  I  have  forgotten),  all  these 
followed  behind,  and  hurried  the  guests  along  until  they 
entered  a  magnificent  saloon.  It  was  built  in  a  perfect 


246  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

oval,  and  lighted  from  a  crystal  dome  above.  Around  the 
walls  were  ranged  two-and-twenty  thrones,  overhung  by 
canopies  of  crimson  and  gold,  and  provided  with  the 
softest  of  cushions,  which  were  tasseled  and  fringed 
with  gold  cord.  Each  of  the  strangers  was  invited  to 
sit  down;  and  there  they  were,  two-and-twenty  storm- 
beaten  mariners,  in  worn  and  tattered  garb,  sitting  on 
two-and-twenty  cushioned  and  canopied  thrones,  so  rich 
and  gorgeous  that  the  proudest  monarch  had  nothing 
more  splendid  in  his  stateliest  hall. 

Then  you  might  have  seen  the  guests  nodding,  wink 
ing  with  one  eye,  and  leaning  from  one  throne  to 
another,  to  communicate  their  satisfaction  in  hoarse 
whispers. 

"  Our  good  hostess  has  made  kings  of  us  all,"  said 
one.  "Ha!  do  you  smell  the  feast?  I'll  engage  it  will 
be  fit  to  set  before  two-and-twenty  kings." 

But  the  beautiful  woman  now  clapped  her  hands;  and 
immediately  there  entered  a  train  of  two-and-twenty 
serving-men,  bringing  dishes  of  the  richest  food,  all  hot 
from  the  kitchen  fire,  and  sending  up  such  a  steam  that 
it  hung  like  a  cloud  below  the  crystal  dome  of  the  saloon. 
An  equal  number  of  attendants  brought  great  flagons  of 
wine  of  various  kinds,  some  of  which  sparkled  as  it 
was  poured  out,  and  went  bubbling  down  the  throat; 
while  of  other  sorts,  the  purple  liquor  was  so  clear  that 
you  could  see  the  wrought  figures  at  the  bottom  of  the 
goblet.  While  the  servants  supplied  the  two-and-twenty 
guests  with  food  and  drink,  the  hostess  and  her  four 
maidens  went  from  one  throne  to  another,  exhorting  them 
to  eat  their  fill,  and  to  quaff  wine  abundantly,  and  thus 
to  recompense  themselves  at  this  one  banquet  for  the 
many  days  when  they  had  gone  without  a  dinner.  But, 


Circe's  Palace  247 

whenever  the  mariners  were  not  looking  at  them  (which 
was  pretty  often,  as  they  looked  chiefly  into  the  basins 
and  platters),  the  beautiful  woman  and  her  damsels 
turned  aside  and  laughed.  Even  the  servants,  as  they 
knelt  down  to  present  the  dishes,  might  be  seen  to  grin 
and  sneer  while  the  guests  were  helping  themselves  to 
the  offered  dainties. 

And  once  in  a  while  the  strangers  seemed  to  taste 
something  that  they  did  not  like. 

"  Here  is  an  odd  kind  of  a  spice  in  this  dish,"  said 
one.  "  I  can't  say  it  quite  suits  my  palate.  Down  it 
goes,  however." 

"  Send  a  good  draught  of  wine  down  your  throat," 
said  his  comrade  on  the  next  throne ;  "  that  is  the  stuff 
to  make  this  sort  of  cookery  relish  well.  Though  I  must 
needs  say,  the  wine  has  a  queer  taste,  too.  But  the  more 
I  drink  of  it  the  better  I  like  the  flavor." 

Whatever  little  fault  they  might  find  with  the  dishes, 
they  sat  at  dinner  a  prodigiously  long  while.  They  forgot 
all  about  their  homes,  and  their  wives  and  children,  and 
all  about  Ulysses,  and  everything  else,  except  this  ban 
quet,  at  which  they  wanted  to  keep  feasting  forever.  But 
at  length  they  began  to  give  over,  from  mere  incapacity 
to  hold  any  more. 

"  That  last  bit  of  fat  is  too  much  for  me,"  said  one. 

"  And  I  have  not  room  for  another  morsel,"  said  his 
next  neighbor,  heaving  a  sigh.  "  What  a  pity !  My  ap 
petite  is  as  sharp  as  ever." 

In  short,  they  all  left  off  eating,  and  leaned  back  on 
their  thrones,  with  such  a  stupid  and  helpless  aspect  as 
made  them  ridiculous  to  behold.  When  their  hostess  saw 
this,  she  laughed  aloud;  so  did  her  four  damsels;  so 
did  the  two-and-twenty  serving-men  that  bore  the  dishes, 


248  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

and  their  two-and-twenty  fellows  that  poured  out  the 
wine.  And  the  louder  they  all  laughed,  the  more  stupid 
and  helpless  did  the  two-and-twenty  gormandizers  look. 
Then  the  beautiful  woman  took  her  stand  in  the  middle 
of  the  saloon,  and  stretching  out  a  slender  rod  (it  had 
been  all  the  while  in  her  hand,  although  they  never  no 
ticed  it  till  this  moment),  she  turned  it  from  one  guest 
to  another,  until  each  had  felt  it  pointed  at  himself. 
Beautiful  as  her  face  was,  and  though  there  was  a  smile 
on  it,  it  looked  just  as  wicked  and  mischievous  as  the 
ugliest  serpent  that  ever  was  seen ;  and  fat-witted  as  the 
voyagers  had  made  themselves,  they  began  to  suspect 
that  they  had  fallen  into  the  power  of  an  evil-minded 
enchantress. 

"  Wretches,"  cried  she,  "  you  have  abused  a  lady's 
hospitality ;  and  in  this  princely  saloon  your  behavior  has 
been  suited  to  a  hog-pen.  You  are  already  swine  in 
everything  but  the  human  form,  which  you  disgrace,  and 
which  I  myself  should  be  ashamed  to  keep  a  moment 
longer,  were  you  to  share  it  with  me.  But  it  will  require 
only  the  slightest  exercise  of  magic  to  make  the  exte 
rior  conform  to  the  hoggish  disposition.  Assume  your 
proper  shapes,  gormandizers,  and  begone  to  the  sty !  " 

Uttering  these  last  words,  she  waved  her  wand;  and 
stamping  her  foot  imperiously,  each  of  the  guests  was 
struck  aghast  at  beholding,  instead  of  his  comrades  in 
human  shape,  one-and-twenty  hogs  sitting  on  the  same 
number  of  golden  thrones.  Each  man  (as  he  still  sup 
posed  himself  to  be)  essayed  to  give  a  cry  of  surprise, 
but  found  that  he  could  merely  grunt,  and  that,  in  a  word, 
he  was  just  such  another  beast  as  his  companions.  It 
looked  so  intolerably  absurd  to  see  hogs  on  cushioned 
thrones,  that  they  made  haste  to  wallow  down  upon  all 


Circe's  Palace  249 

fours,  like  other  swine.  They  tried  to  groan  and  beg 
for  mercy,  but  forthwith  emitted  the  most  awful  grunt 
ing  and  squealing  that  ever  came  out  of  swinish  throats. 
They  would  have  wrung  their  hands  in  despair,  but,  at 
tempting  to  do  so,  grew  all  the  more  desperate  for  seeing 
themselves  squatted  on  their  hams,  and  pawing  the  air 
with  their  fore-trotters.  Dear  me!  what  pendulous  ears 
they  had!  what  little  red  eyes,  half  buried  in  fat!  and 
what  long  snouts,  instead  of  Grecian  noses! 

"  Begone  to  your  sty !  "  cried  the  enchantress,  giving 
them  some  smart  strokes  with  her  wand;  and  then  she 
turned  to  the  serving-men — "  Drive  out  these  swine,  and 
throw  down  some  acorns  for  them  to  eat." 

Meantime  Eurylochus  had  waited,  and  waited,  and 
waited  in  the  entrance  hall  of  the  palace,  without  being 
able  to  comprehend  what  had  befallen  his  friends.  At 
last,  when  the  swinish  uproar  sounded  through  the  palace, 
and  when  he  saw  the  image  of  a  hog  in  the  marble  basin, 
he  thought  it  best  to  hasten  back  to  the  vessel  and  inform 
the  wise  Ulysses  of  these  marvelous  occurrences.  So 
he  ran  as  fast  as  he  could  down  the  steps,  and  never 
stopped  to  draw  breath  till  he  reached  the  shore. 

"  Why  do  you  come  alone  ?  "  asked  King  Ulysses,  as 
soon  as  he  saw  him.  "  Where  are  your  two-and-twenty 
comrades  ?  " 

At  these  questions  Eurylochus  burst  into  tears. 

"  Alas !  "  cried  he,  "  I  greatly  fear  we  shall  never  see 
one  of  their  faces  again." 

Then  he  told  Ulysses  all  that  had  happened,  as  far  as 
he  knew  it;  and  added  that  he  suspected  the  beautiful 
woman  to  be  a  vile  enchantress,  and  the  marble  palace, 
magnificent  as  it  looked,  to  be  only  a  dismal  cavern  in 
reality.  As  for  his  companions,  he  could  not  imagine 


250  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

what  had  become  of  them,  unless  they  had  been  given 
to  the  swine  to  be  devoured  alive.  At  this  intelligence 
all  the  voyagers  were  greatly  affrighted.  But  Ulysses 
lost  no  time  in  girding  on  his  sword,  and  hanging  his 
bow  and  quiver  over  his  shoulders,  and  taking  a  spear 
in  his  right  hand.  When  his  followers  saw  their  wise 
leader  making  these  preparations,  they  inquired  whither 
he  was  going,  and  earnestly  besought  him  not  to  leave 
them. 

"  You  are  our  king,"  cried  they ;  "  and  what  is  more, 
you  are  the  wisest  man  in  the  whole  world,  and  nothing 
but  your  wisdom  and  courage  can  get  us  out  of  this 
danger.  If  you  desert  us,  and  go  to  the  enchanted  palace, 
you  will  suffer  the  same  fate  as  our  poor  companions, 
and  not  a  soul  of  us  will  ever  see  our  dear  Ithaca  again." 

"  As  I  am  your  king,"  answered  Ulysses,  "  and  wiser 
than  any  of  you,  it  is  therefore  the  more  my  duty  to  see 
what  has  befallen  our  comrades,  and  whether  anything 
can  yet  be  done  to  rescue  them.  Wait  for  me  here  until 
to-morrow.  If  I  do  not  then  return,  you  must  hoist  sail 
and  endeavor  to  find  your  way  to  our  native  land.  For 
my  part,  I  am  answerable  for  the  fate  of  these  poor 
mariners,  who  have  stood  by  my  side  in  battle,  and  been 
so  often  drenched  to  the  skin,  along  with  me,  by  the  same 
tempestuous  surges.  I  will  either  bring  them  back  with 
me  or  perish." 

Had  his  followers  dared,  they  would  have  detained  him 
by  force.  But  King  Ulysses  frowned  sternly  on  them, 
and  shook  his  spear,  and  bade  them  stop  him  at  their 
peril.  Seeing  him  so  determined  they  let  him  go,  and  sat 
down  on  the  sand,  as  disconsolate  a  set  of  people  as 
could  be,  waiting  and  praying  for  his  return. 

It  happened  to  Ulysses,  just  as  before,  that,  when  he 


Circe's  Palace  251 

had  gone  a  few  steps  from  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  the  pur 
ple  bird  came  fluttering  towards  him,  crying,  "  Peep, 
peep,  pe — weep ! "  and  using  all  the  art  it  could  to  per 
suade  him  to  go  no  farther. 

"  What  mean  you,  little  bird?  "  cried  Ulysses.  "  You 
are  arrayed  like  a  king  in  purple  and  gold,  and  wear 
a  golden  crown  upon  your  head.  Is  it  because  I  too  am 
a  king,  that  you  desire  so  earnestly  to  speak  with  me? 
If  you  can  talk  in  human  language,  say  what  you  would 
have  me  do." 

"  Peep !  "  answered  the  purple  bird,  very  dolorously. 
"  Peep,  peep,  pe — we — ep !  " 

Certainly  there  lay  some  heavy  anguish  at  the  little 
bird's  heart;  and  it  was  a  sorrowful  predicament  that 
he  could  not  at  least  have  the  consolation  of  telling  what 
it  was.  But  Ulysses  had  no  time  to  waste  in  trying  to 
get  at  the  mystery.  He  therefore  quickened  his  pace, 
and  had  gone  a  good  way  along  the  pleasant  wood-path, 
when  there  met  him  a  young  man  of  very  brisk  and 
intelligent  aspect,  and  clad  in  a  rather  singular  garb. 
He  wore  a  short  cloak,  and  a  sort  of  cap  that  seemed  to 
be  furnished  with  a  pair  of  wings;  and  from  the  light 
ness  of  his  step,  you  would  have  supposed  that  there 
might  likewise  be  wings  on  his  feet.  To  enable  him  to 
walk  still  better  (for  he  was  always  on  one  journey  or 
another),  he  carried  a  winged  staff,  around  which  two 
serpents  were  wriggling  and  twisting.  In  short,  I  have 
said  enough  to  make  you  guess  that  it  was  Quicksilver  * ; 
and  Ulysses  (who  knew  him  of  old,  and  had  learned  a 
great  deal  of  his  wisdom  from  him)  recognized  him  in 
a  moment. 

"  Whither    are    you    going    in    such    a    hurry,    wise 

*  The  Romans  called  him  Mercury,  and  the  Greeks  Hermes. 


252  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

Ulysses  ?  "  asked  Quicksilver.  "  Do  you  not  know  that 
this  island  is  enchanted?  The  wicked  enchantress  (whose 
name  is  Circe,  the  sister  of  King  ^Eetes)  dwells  in  the 
marble  palace  which  you  see  yonder  among  the  trees. 
By  her  magic  arts  she  changes  every  human  being  into 
the  brute  beast  or  fowl  whom  he  happens  most  to 
resemble." 

"  That  little  bird,  which  met  me  at  the  edge  of  the 
cliff,"  exclaimed  Ulysses ;  "  was  he  a  human  being 
once?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  Quicksilver.  "  He  was  once  a  king, 
named  Picus,  and  a  pretty  good  sort  of  a  king  too,  only 
rather  too  proud  of  his  purple  robe,  and  his  crown,  and 
the  golden  chain  about  his  neck;  so  he  was  forced  to 
take  the  shape  of  a  gaudy-feathered  bird.  The  lions,  and 
wolves,  and  tigers,  who  will  come  running  to  meet  you, 
in  front  of  the  palace,  were  formerly  fierce  and  cruel 
men,  resembling  in  their  dispositions  the  wild  beasts 
whose  forms  they  now  rightfully  wear." 

"  And  my  poor  companions,"  said  Ulysses,  "  have  they 
undergone  a  similar  change  through  the  arts  of  this 
wicked  Circe  ?  " 

"  You  well  know  what  gormandizers  they  were,"  re 
plied  Quicksilver;  and,  rogue  that  he  was,  he  could  not 
help  laughing  at  the  joke.  "  So  you  will  not  be  sur 
prised  to  hear  that  they  have  all  taken  the  shapes  of 
swine!  If  Circe  had  never  done  anything  worse,  I  really 
should  not  think  her  so  very  much  to  blame." 

"  But  can  I  do  nothing  to  help  them  ? "  inquired 
Ulysses. 

"  It  will  require  all  your  wisdom,"  said  Quicksilver, 
"  and  a  little  of  my  own  into  the  bargain,  to  keep  your 
royal  and  sagacious  self  from  being  transformed  into  a 


Circe's  Palace  253 

fox.  But  do  as  I  bid  you,  and  the  matter  may  end  bet 
ter  than  it  has  begun." 

While  he  was  speaking,  Quicksilver  seemed  to  be  in 
search  of  something ;  he  went  stooping  along  the  ground, 
and  soon  laid  his  hand  on  a  little  plant  with  a  snow- 
white  flower,  which  he  plucked  and  smelt.  Ulysses  had 
been  looking  at  that  very  spot  only  just  before;  and  it 
appeared  to  him  that  the  plant  had  burst  into  full  flower 
the  instant  when  Quicksilver  touched  it  with  his  fingers. 

"  Take  this  flower,  King  Ulysses,"  said  he.  "  Guard 
it  as  you  do  your  eyesight;  for  I  can  assure  you  it  is 
exceedingly  rare  and  precious,  and  you  might  seek  the 
whole  earth  over  without  ever  finding  another  like  it. 
Keep  it  in  your  hand,  and  smell  of  it  frequently  after 
you  enter  the  palace,  and  while  you  are  talking  with  the 
enchantress.  Especially  when  she  offers  you  food  or  a 
draught  of  wine  out  of  her  goblet,  be  careful  to  fill  your 
nostrils  with  the  flower's  fragrance.  Follow  these  direc 
tions,  and  you  may  defy  her  magic  arts  to  change  you  into 
a  fox." 

When  Ulysses  reached  the  lawn  in  front  of  the  pal 
ace,  the  lions  and  other  savage  animals  came  bounding 
to  meet  him,  and  would  have  fawned  upon  him  and  licked 
his  feet.  But  the  wise  king  struck  at  them  with  his  long 
spear,  and  sternly  bade  them  begone  out  of  his  path ;  for 
he  knew  that  they  had  once  been  bloodthirsty  men,  and 
would  now  tear  him  limb  from  limb,  instead  of  fawning 
upon  him,  could  they  do  the  mischief  that  was  in  their 
hearts.  The  wild  beasts  yelped  and  glared  at  him,  and 
stood  at  a  distance  while  he  ascended  the  palace  steps. 

On  entering  the  hall,  Ulysses  saw  the  magic  fountain 
in  the  center  of  it.  The  up-gushing  water  had  now  again 
taken  the  shape  of  a  man  in  a  long,  white,  fleecy  robe, 


254  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

who  appeared  to  be  making  gestures  of  welcome.  The 
king  likewise  heard  the  noise  of  the  shuttle  in  the  loom, 
and  the  sweet  melody  of  the  beautiful  woman's  song,  and, 
then  the  pleasant  voices  of  herself  and  the  four  maidens 
talking  together,  with  peals  of  merry  laughter  intermixed. 
But  Ulysses  did  not  waste  much  time  in  listening  to  the 
laughter  or  the  song.  He  leaned  his  spear  against  one 
of  the  pillars  of  the  hall,  and  then,  after  loosening  his 
sword  in  the  scabbard,  stepped  boldly  forward  and  threw 
the  folding  doors  wide  open.  The  moment  she  beheld  his 
stately  figure  standing  in  the  doorway,  the  beautiful 
woman  rose  from  the  loom  and  ran  to  meet  him,  with  a 
glad  smile  throwing  its  sunshine  over  her  face  and  both 
her  hands  extended. 

"  Welcome,  brave  stranger !  "  cried  she.  "  We  were 
expecting  you.  Your  companions  have  already  been  re 
ceived  into  my  palace,  and  have  enjoyed  the  hospitable 
treatment  to  which  the  propriety  of  their  behavior  so 
well  entitles  them.  If  such  be  your  pleasure,  you  shall 
first  take  some  refreshment,  and  then  join  them  in  the 
elegant  apartments  which  they  now  occupy.  See,  I  and 
my  maidens  have  been  weaving  their  figures  into  this 
piece  of  tapestry." 

She  pointed  to  the  web  of  beautifully  woven  cloth  in 
the  loom.  Circe  and  the  four  nymphs  must  have  been 
very  diligently  at  work  since  the  arrival  of  the  mariners  ; 
for  a  great  many  yards  of  tapestry  had  now  been 
wrought,  in  addition  to  what  I  before  described.  In 
this  new  part  Ulysses  saw  his  two-and-twenty  friends 
represented  as  sitting  on  cushioned  and  canopied  thrones, 
greedily  devouring  dainties  and  quaffing  deep  draughts  of 
wine.  The  work  had  not  yet  gone  any  farther.  Oh,  no, 
indeed.  The  enchantress  was  far  too  cunning  to  let 


Circe's  Palace  255 

Ulysses  see  the  mischief  which  her  magic  arts  had  since 
brought  upon  the  gormandizers. 

"  As  for  yourself,  valiant  sir,"  said  Circe,  "  judging  by 
the  dignity  of  your  aspect,  I  take  you  to  be  nothing  less 
than  a  king.  Deign  to  follow  me,  and  you  shall  be 
treated  as  befits  your  rank/' 

So  Ulysses  followed  her  into  the  oval  saloon  where 
his  two-and-twenty  comrades  had  devoured  the  banquet 
which  ended  so  disastrously  for  themselves,  but  all  this 
while  he  had  held  the  snow-white  flower  in  his  hand, 
and  had  constantly  smelt  of  it  while  Circe  was  speaking; 
and  as  he  crossed  the  threshold  of  the  saloon,  he  took 
good  care  to  inhale  several  long  and  deep  snuffs  of  its 
fragrance.  Instead  of  two-and-twenty  thrones,  which 
had  before  been  ranged  around  the  wall,  there  was  now 
only  a  single  throne  in  the  center  of  the  apartment.  But 
this  was  surely  the  most  magnificent  seat  that  ever  a  king 
or  an  emperor  reposed  himself  upon,  all  made  of  chased 
gold,  studded  with  precious  stones,  with  a  cushion  that 
looked  like  a  soft  heap  of  living  roses,  and  overhung  by 
a  canopy  of  sunlight  which  Circe  knew  how  to  weave 
into  drapery.  The  enchantress  took  Ulysses  by  the  hand, 
and  made  him  sit  down  upon  this  dazzling  throne.  Then, 
clapping  her  hands,  she  summoned  the  chief  butler. 

"  Bring  hither,"  said  she,  "  the  goblet  that  is  set  apart 
for  kings  to  drink  out  of.  And  fill  it  with  the  same  deli 
cious  wine  which  my  royal  brother,  King  ^Eetes,  praised 
so  highly  when  he  last  visited  me  with  my  fair  daughter 
Medea.  That  good  and  amiable  child !  Were  she  now 
here,  it  would  delight  her  to  see  me  offering  this  wine 
to  my  honored  guest." 

But  Ulysses,  while  the  butler  was  gone  for  the  wine, 
held  the  snow-white  flower  to  his  nose. 


256  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

"  Is  it  a  wholesome  wine  ?  "  he  asked. 

At  this  the  four  maidens  tittered;  whereupon  the 
enchantress  looked  round  at  them  with  an  aspect  of 
severity. 

"  It  is  the  wholesomest  juice  that  ever  was  squeezed 
out  of  the  grape,"  said  she;  "for,  instead  of  disguising 
a  man,  as  other  liquor  is  apt  to  do,  it  brings  him  to  his 
true  self  and  shows  him  as  he  ought  to  be." 

The  chief  butler  liked  nothing  better  than  to  see  people 
turned  into  swine,  or  making  any  kind  of  beast  of  them 
selves;  so  he  made  haste  to  bring  the  royal  goblet,  filled 
with  a  liquid  as  bright  as  gold,  and  which  kept  sparkling 
upward  and  throwing  a  sunny  spray  over  the  brim.  But, 
delightful  as  the  wine  looked,  it  was  mingled  with  the 
most  potent  enchantments  that  Circe  knew  how  to  con 
coct.  For  every  drop  of  the  pure  grape  juice  there  were 
two  drops  of  the  pure  mischief;  and  the  danger  of  the 
thing  was,  that  the  mischief  made  it  taste  all  the  better. 
The  mere  smell  of  the  bubbles,  which  effervesced  at  the 
brim,  was  enough  to  turn  a  man's  beard  into  pig's  bristles, 
or  make  a  lion's  claws  grow  out  of  his  fingers,  or  a  fox's 
brush  behind  him. 

"  Drink,  my  noble  guest,"  said  Circe,  smiling  as  she 
presented  him  with  the  goblet.  "You  will  find  in  this 
draught  a  solace  for  all  your  troubles." 

King  Ulysses  took  the  goblet  with  his  right  hand,  while 
with  his  left  he  held  the  snow-white  flower  to  his  nostrils, 
and  drew  in  so  long  a  breath  that  his  lungs  were  quite 
filled  with  its  pure  and  simple  fragrance.  Then,  drink 
ing  off  all  the  wine,  he  looked  the  enchantress  calmly  in 
the  face. 

"  Wretch,"  cried  Circe,  giving  him  a  smart  stroke  with 
her  wand,  "  how  dare  you  keep  your  human  shape  a 


Circe's  Palace  257 

moment  longer?  Take  the  form  of  the  brute  whom  you 
most  resemble.  If  a  hog,  go  join  your  fellow-swine  in 
the  sty;  if  a  lion,  a  wolf,  a  tiger,  go  howl  with  the  wild 
beasts  on  the  lawn;  if  a  fox,  go  exercise  your  craft  in 
stealing  poultry.  Thou  hast  quaffed  off  my  wine,  and 
canst  be  man  no  longer." 

But  such  was  the  virtue  of  the  snow-white  flower,  in 
stead  of  wallowing  down  from  his  throne  in  swinish 
shape,  or  taking  any  other  brutal  form,  Ulysses  looked 
even  more  manly  and  king-like  than  before.  He  gave 
the  magic  goblet  a  toss,  and  sent  it  clashing  over  the 
marble  floor  to  the  farthest  end  of  the  saloon.  Then, 
drawing  his  sword,  he  seized  the  enchantress  by  her 
beautiful  ringlets,  and  made  a  gesture  as  if  he  meant  to 
strike  off  her  head  at  one  blow. 

"  Wicked  Circe,"  cried  he,  in  a  terrible  voice,  "  this 
sword  shall  put  an  end  to  thy  enchantments.  Thou  shalt 
die,  vile  wretch,  and  do  no  more  mischief  in  the  world 
by  tempting  human  beings  into  the  vices  which  make 
beasts  of  them." 

The  tone  and  countenance  of  Ulysses  were  so  awful, 
and  his  sword  gleamed  so  brightly  and  seemed  to  have 
so  intolerably  keen  an  edge,  that  Circe  was  almost  killed 
by  the  mere  fright,  without  waiting  for  a  blow.  The 
chief  butler  scrambled  out  of  the  saloon,  picking  up  the 
golden  goblet  as  he  went ;  and  the  enchantress  and  the  four 
maidens  fell  on  their  knees,  wringing  their  hands,  and 
screaming  for  mercy. 

"  Spare  me !  "  cried  Circe.  "  Spare  me,  royal  and  wise 
Ulysses.  For  now  I  know  that  thou  art  he  of  whom 
Quicksilver  forewarned  me,  the  most  prudent  of  mortals, 
against  whom  no  enchantments  can  prevail.  Thou  only 
couldst  have  conquered  Circe.  Spare  me,  wisest  of  men. 


258 


Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 


I  will  show  thee  true  hospitality,  and  even  give  myself 
to  be  thy  slave,  and  this  magnificent  palace  to  be  hence 
forth  thy  home." 

The  four  nymphs,  meanwhile,  were  making  a  most 
piteous  ado;  and  especially  the  ocean  nymph,  with  the 
sea-green  hair,  wept  a  great  deal  of  salt  water,  and  the 
fountain  nymph,  besides  scattering  dewdrops  from  her 
fingers'  ends,  nearly  melted  away  into  tears.  But  Ulysses 
would  not  be  pacified  until  Circe  had  taken  a  solemn  oath 
to  change  back  his  companions,  and  as  many  others  as 
he  should  direct,  from  their  present  forms  of  beast  or 
bird  into  their  former  shapes  of  men. 

"  On  these  conditions,"  said  he,  "  I  consent  to  spare 
your  life.  Otherwise  you  must  die  upon  the  spot." 

With  a  drawn  sword  hanging  over  her,  the  enchantress 
would  readily  have  consented  to  do  as  much  good  as  she 
had  hitherto  done  mischief,  however  little  she  might  like 
such  employment.  She  therefore  led  Ulysses  out  of  the 
back  entrance  of  the  palace,  and  showed  him  the  swine 
in  their  sty.  There  were  about  fifty  of  these  unclean 
beasts  in  the  whole  herd;  and  though  the  greater  part 
were  hogs  by  birth  and  education,  there  was  wonderfully 
little  difference  to  be  seen  betwixt  them  and  their  new 
brethren  who  had  so  recently  worn  the  human  shape. 

The  comrades  of  Ulysses,  however,  had  not  quite  lost 
the  remembrance  of  having  formerly  stood  erect.  When 
he  approached  the  sty,  two-and-twenty  enormous  swine 
separated  themselves  from  the  herd  and  scampered  to 
wards  him  with  such  a  chorus  of  horrible  squealing  as 
made  him  clap  both  hands  to  his  ears.  And  yet  they 
did  not  seem  to  know  what  they  wanted,  nor  whether 
they  were  merely  hungry,  or  miserable  from  some  other 
cause.  It  was  curious,  in  the  midst  of  their  distress, 


Circe's  Palace  259 

to  observe  them  thrusting  their  noses  into  the  mire  in 
quest  of  something  to  eat.  The  nymph  with  the  bodice 
of  oaken  bark  (she  was  the  hamadryad  of  an  oak)  threw 
a  handful  of  acorns  among  them ;  and  the  two-and-twenty 
hogs  scrambled  and  fought  for  the  prize,  as  if  they  had 
tasted  not  so  much  as  a  noggin  of  sour  milk  for  a 
twelvemonth. 

"  These  must  certainly  be  my  comrades,"  said  Ulysses. 
"  I  recognize  their  dispositions.  They  are  hardly  worth 
the  trouble  of  changing  them  into  the  human  form  again. 
Nevertheless,  we  will  have  it  done,  lest  their  bad  example 
should  corrupt  the  other  hogs.  Let  them  take  their  orig 
inal  shapes,  therefore,  Dame  Circe,  if  your  skill  is  equal 
to  the  task.  It  will  require  greater  magic,  I  trow,  than 
it  did  to  make  swine  of  them." 

So  Circe  waved  her  wand  again,  and  repeated  a  few 
magic  words,  at  the  sound  of  which  the  two-and-twenty 
hogs  pricked  up  their  pendulous  ears.  It  was  a  wonder 
to  behold  how  their  snouts  grew  shorter  and  shorter,  and 
their  mouths  (which  they  seemed  to  be  sorry  for,  be 
cause  they  could  not  gobble  so  expeditiously)  smaller 
and  smaller,  and  how  one  and  another  began  to  stand 
upon  his  hind-legs,  and  scratch  his  nose  with  his  fore- 
trotters.  At  first  the  spectators  hardly  knew  whether 
to  call  them  hogs  or  men,  but  by  and  by  they  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  they  rather  resembled  the  latter. 
Finally,  there  stood  the  twenty-two  comrades  of  Ulysses, 
looking  pretty  much  the  same  as  when  they  left  the 
vessel. 

You  must  not  imagine,  however,  that  the  swinish 
quality  had  entirely  gone  out  of  them.  When  once  it 
fastens  itself  into  a  person's  character,  it  is  very  difficult 
getting  rid  of  it.  This  was  proved  by  the  hamadryad, 


260  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

who,  being  exceedingly  fond  of  mischief,  threw  another 
handful  of  acorns  before  the  twenty-two  newly  restored 
people ;  whereupon  down  they  wallowed,  in  a  moment,  and 
gobbled  them  up  in  a  very  shameful  way.  Then  recol 
lecting  themselves,  they  scrambled  to  their  feet,  and 
looked  more  than  commonly  foolish. 

"Thanks,  noble  Ulysses!"  they  cried.  "From  brute 
beasts  you  have  restored  us  to  the  condition  of  men 
again." 

"  Do  not  put  yourselves  to  the  trouble  of  thanking 
me,"  said  the  wise  king.  "  I  fear  I  have  done  but  little 
for  you." 

To  say  the  truth,  there  was  a  suspicious  kind  of  a 
grunt  in  their  voices,  and  for  a  long  time  afterwards 
they  spoke  gruffly,  and  were  apt  to  set  up  a  squeal. 

"  It  must  depend  upon  your  own  future  behavior," 
added  Ulysses,  "  whether  you  do  not  find  your  way  back 
to  the  sty." 

At  this  moment  the  note  of  a  bird  sounded  from  the 
branch  of  a  neighboring  tree. 

"  Peep,  peep,  pe — weep — ep !  " 

It  was  the  purple  bird  who,  all  this  while,  had  been 
sitting  over  their  heads,  watching  what  was  going  for 
ward,  and  hoping  that  Ulysses  would  remember  how  he 
had  done  his  utmost  to  keep  him  and  his  followers  out 
of  harm's  way.  Ulysses  ordered  Circe  instantly  to  make 
a  king  of  this  good  little  fowl,  and  leave  him  exactly  as 
she  found  him.  Hardly  were  the  words  spoken,  and 
before  the  bird  had  time  to  utter  another  "  Pe — weep," 
King  Picus  leaped  down  from  the  bough  of  the  tree,  as 
majestic  a  sovereign  as  any  in  the  world,  dressed  in  a 
long  purple  robe  and  gorgeous  yellow  stockings,  with  a 
splendidly  wrought  collar  about  his  neck  and  a  golden 


Circe's  Palace  261 

crown  upon  his  head.  He  and  King  Ulysses  exchanged 
with  one  another  the  courtesies  which  belong  to  their 
elevated  rank.  But  from  that  time  forth,  King  Picus 
was  no  longer  proud  of  his  crown  and  his  trappings  of 
royalty,  nor  of  the  fact  of  his  being  a  king;  he  felt  him 
self  merely  the  upper  servant  of  his  people,  and  that 
it  must  be  his  lifelong  labor  to  make  them  better  and 
happier. 

As  for  the  lions,  tigers,  and  wolves  (though  Circe  would 
have  restored  them  to  their  former  shapes  at  his  slight 
est  word),  Ulysses  thought  it  advisable  that  they  should 
remain  as  they  now  were,  and  thus  give  warning  of  their 
cruel  dispositions,  instead  of  going  about  under  the  guise 
of  men  and  pretending  to  human  sympathies,  while  their 
hearts  had  the  blood-thirstiness  of  wild  beasts.  So  he 
let  them  howl  as  much  as  they  liked,  but  never  troubled 
his  head  about  them.  And  when  everything  was  settled 
according  to  his  pleasure,  he  sent  to  summon  the  re 
mainder  of  his  comrades,  whom  he  had  left  at  the  sea 
shore.  These  being  arrived,  with  the  prudent  Eurylochus 
at  their  head,  they  all  made  themselves  comfortable  in 
Circe's  enchanted  palace  until  quite  rested  and  refreshed 
from  the  toils  and  hardships  of  their  voyage. 


ULYSSES  AND  THE  CYCLOPS 

BY   HOPE   MONCRIEFF 

MANY  a  year  did  the  much-enduring  Ulysses  sail 
unknown  seas,  on  his  way  back  from  Troy  to 
Ithaca,  his  island  home.  Beset  by  such  mishaps  and  en 
chantments  that  for  long  he  seemed  little  like  to  see 
again  his  faithful  wife  Penelope  and  his  son  Telemachus, 
he  escaped  from  one  perilous  adventure  after  another, 
but  none  more  fearsome  than  when  he  came  to  the  smok 
ing  mountain-land  of  the  Cyclopes.  So  were  named  a 
cruel  race  of  one-eyed  giants,  wild  as  the  rocky  heights 
on  which  they  fed  their  flocks  of  sheep  and  goats,  know 
ing  not  to  plant  corn  or  fruit,  and  holding  no  commerce 
with  kindly  men,  nor  reverencing  the  lords  of  heaven. 

The  very  danger  of  venturing  into  such  a  land  was 
lure  enough  for  this  hero,  when  from  his  ship  he  sighted 
a  huge  cave  opening  high  above  the  beach,  its  mouth  half 
hidden  by  a  tangle  of  dark  wood.  Here  lived  alone  one 
of  these  monsters,  Polyphemus  by  name,  a  savage  so 
churlish  of  nature  that  he  kept  aloof  even  from  his  fierce 
fellows.  Eager  to  explore  that  gloomy  lair,  Ulysses 
picked  out  twelve  of  his  boldest  men,  with  whom  he 
landed,  leaving  the  vessel  moored  by  the  shore  to  await 
their  return.  On  reaching  the  cave  they  found  its  mas 
ter  absent,  but  that  he  would  soon  return  they  might 
guess  from  the  flocks  of  bleating  lambs  and  kids  penned 
up  within,  along  with  great  piles  of  cheeses,  vats  of  curd, 
and  rows  of  milking  vessels,  the  giant's  household  goods. 

262 


Ulysses  and  the  Cyclops  263 

The  sailors,  their  hearts  chilled  by  its  damp  shades,  were 
not  for  staying  long  in  this  vast  and  deep-sunk  hollow. 

"  Let  us  begone,"  they  urged  their  leader,  "  back  to  the 
ship  with  a  load  of  cheeses  and  a  drove  of  lambs  and 
kids  to  mend  our  fare  on  the  salt  waves !  It  were  better 
to  help  ourselves  behind  the  back  of  such  a  host,  who 
may  soon  come  to  catch  us  in  his  den." 

But  Ulysses  let  curiosity  get  the  better  of  prudence. 
He  had  a  mind  at  all  risks  to  know  what  manner  of 
creature  this  was  that  lived  in  so  strange  an  abode;  and 
he  kept  his  companions  in  the  cave,  with  a  venturesome- 
ness  that  cost  them  dear.  They  even  made  bold  to  light 
a  fire  and  to  refresh  themselves  from  the  giant's  store 
of  milk  and  cheese;  and  thus  were  they  caught,  taking 
their  ease,  when  Polyphemus  came  home  at  evening, 
driving  before  him  his  full-uddered  flock. 

Above  their  bleating  and  scurrying  was  heard  the 
heavy  tramp  of  that  monster,  and  the  earth  shook  as  from 
his  shoulders  he  flung  down  a  crashing  stack  of  firewood, 
gathered  in  the  forests  through  which  he  stalked  like  a 
moving  mountain.  The  flock  driven  inside,  he  closed 
the  entrance  of  the  cave  by  dragging  across  it  a  mighty 
boulder  that  would  have  made  a  load  for  twenty  wagons. 
Having  thus  shut  out  the  fading  light,  he  knelt  down  to 
milk  his  ewes  and  goats,  as  yet  unaware  what  uninvited 
guests  were  straining  their  eyes  at  his  black  bulk  from 
the  deepest  and  darkest  recess  into  which  they  had 
shrunk  before  his  coming.  But  when  he  went  on  to  light 
a  fire,  the  flickering  flames  showed  them  his  hideous 
face  with  its  one  broad  red  eye,  that  glowed  in  sudden 
anger  when  it  fell  upon  the  strangers;  and  through  the 
smoky  vaults  echoed  the  blood-curdling  roar  with  which 
he  greeted  them. 


264  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

"  Who,  and  whence  are  ye  ? "  he  thundered  forth. 
"  Pirates,  doubtless,  who  peril  your  own  lives  to  rob 
other  men !  " 

"  Nay,"  answered  Ulysses,  who  of  all  the  trembling 
band  alone  found  voice  to  speak.  "  We  are  men  of  fa 
mous  race,  the  Greeks  who  at  last  overcame  Troy,  and 
now,  sailing  home,  have  been  driven  by  winds  and  waves 
upon  this  coast.  As  helpless  suppliants  we  fall  before 
thee,  seeking  the  hospitality  due  to  misfortune  from  all 
who  fear  the  gods." 

"  Ho,  ho !  "  bellowed  Polyphemus,  in  gigantic  laughter. 
"  Stranger,  thou  art  strange  indeed  to  this  land,  and  a 
fool  to  boot,  if  thou  think'st  a  Cyclops  owns  any  law 
but  his  own  will.  For  gods  we  care  not,  nor  yet  for  men, 
whoever  they  boast  themselves !  But  say,  how  and  where 
came  ye  on  our  shore  ?  " 

So  he  asked  cunningly,  hoping  to  make  prize  of  their 
ship  if  anchored  near  at  hand;  but  Ulysses  was  no  less 
wily  than  bold,  and  took  heed  not  to  tell  the  truth. 

"  Our  vessel,  alas !  was  dashed  to  pieces  on  the  cliff, 
and,  of  all  the  crew,  we  only  have  saved  nothing  but  our 
lives." 

Now  the  men  saw  with  what  an  inhuman  monster 
they  had  to  do.  The  savage  giant,  wasting  no  more  time 
in  parley,  caught  up  the  first  two  that  came  to  his  hands, 
dashed  their  brains  out  against  the  stony  floor,  then 
greedily  devoured  their  flesh  before  the  eyes  of  the  sur 
vivors,  shuddering  to  think  how  soon  they  might  meet 
the  same  fate.  Ulysses  alone,  undaunted  and  indignant, 
laid  hands  on  his  sword,  but  forebore  to  draw  it.  Even 
when,  having  ended  his  horrid  meal  and  washed  it  down 
with  large  draughts  of  milk,  Polyphemus  laid  himself 
carelessly  to  sleep  among  his  flocks,  the  hero  saw  it  was 


Ulysses  and  the  Cyclops  265 

vain  to  strike,  for  though  he  might  slay  their  fearsome 
foe,  he  knew  that  the  strength  of  all  together  could  not 
roll  away  that  rocky  barrier  from  the  cave  mouth.  There 
was  nothing  for  it  but  to  remain  patient,  watching  a 
chance  to  overcome  the  giant  by  craft  rather  than  by 
force. 

Through  the  night  the  poor  sailors  took  such  rest  as 
they  could,  and  the  glimmering  dawn  brought  fresh  ter 
ror.  As  soon  as  the  giant  had  risen  and  stretched  his 
knotty  limbs,  he  first  set  the  lambs  to  the  ewes,  then 
snatched  up  two  more  of  the  hapless  men,  taken  at  ran 
dom,  to  glut  his  taste  for  blood.  When  he  turned  out 
the  flock  to  pasture,  he  neglected  not  to  roll  back  the 
great  rock  that  sealed  up  the  cave,  thus  turned  into  a 
prison  for  these  rash  strangers,  and  soon  like  to  be  their 
tomb. 

But  through  the  day  their  shrewd  captain  set  his  wits 
to  work  on  a  plot  for  escape.  By  good  chance  they  had 
brought  on  shore  with  them  a  goat-skin  full  of  strong 
wine,  that  now  might  serve  to  dull  the  giant's  senses.  In 
the  cave  they  found  a  tree  trunk  he  had  plucked  up  by 
the  root  to  make  a  club  such  as  only  so  huge  a  monster 
could  wield,  for  it  was  longer  than  the  mast  of  their 
ship.  This  Ulysses  had  sharpened  to  a  point  and  hard- 
ended  in  the  fire  before  hiding  it  away  among  the  dust 
and  dirt  that  littered  the  cave.  He  explained  to  his 
comrades  how  he  meant  to  use  this  enormous  weapon, 
bidding  them  draw  lots  who  should  bear  a  hand  with 
himself  in  the  attempt;  and,  to  his  secret  satisfaction, 
the  lot  fell  on  the  very  men  he  would  have  chosen  for  a 
daring  deed. 

Polyphemus  duly  returned  at  night- fall  and  again, 
when  he  had  closed  the  entrance  and  seen  to  his  flocks, 


266  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

he  caught  up  two  more  of  the  Greeks  to  make  his  sup 
per.  Half  of  his  twelve  men  having  thus  been  devoured, 
Ulysses  brought  to  the  blood-stained  monster  a  milk- 
pail  filled  from  the  wine-skin. 

"  Deign,  O  Cyclops,"  he  cried  on  bended  knee,  "  to 
taste  this  precious  blood  of  the  grape  that  rightly  crowns 
a  Greek  banquet.  It  is  well  we  have  saved  from  our 
wreck  one  skin  to  offer  thee,  that  may  move  thy  heart 
to  send  us  on  our  way  unhurt,  and  not  without  some 
friendly  boon.  Else  thy  thirst  for  human  blood  will 
scare  all  men  from  this  hateful  shore,  and  never  again 
canst  thou  come  by  such  noble  drink.  Taste  and  know !  " 

The  greedy  giant  snatched  up  the  bowl  and  drained  it 
to  the  bottom;  then,  smacking  his  lips  for  delight,  he 
held  it  out  to  be  refilled. 

"  Truly,  it  is  noble  drink,  such  as  was  never  known 
in  our  land !  Speak,  stranger.  Who  art  thou  that  bring- 
est  the  nectar  of  the  gods?  Thy  name?" 

"  My  name  is  Neman,"  quoth  the  crafty  Ulysses,  as  he 
refilled  the  bowl. 

"  Then,  Noman,  I  grant  thee  a  boon,"  hiccoughed  the 
giant  in  boisterous  glee,  the  fumes  of  the  wine  already 
mounting  to  his  head.  "  In  reward  for  the  drink,  I  will 
eat  up  all  thy  companions  before  thee;  and  Noman  shall 
be  the  last  of  all  to  die.  So  fill  once  more ! " 

Again  was  poured  the  dark  wine;  and  when  Polyphe 
mus  had  tossed  off  three  brimming  bowls,  his  brain  be 
gan  to  reel,  while  his  limbs  failed  him  as  well  as  his 
voice,  with  which  he  would  have  roared  out  brutal  jests 
mixed  with  praises  of  this  magic  liquor.  Staggering  here 
and  there,  he  stumbled  and  sprawled  helplessly  on  the 
ground,  and  soon  his  snoring  re-echoed  through  the  cave 
like  rolling  thunder,  as  he  sank  into  drunken  slumber. 


page  266] 


ULYSSES  AND  THE   CYCLOPS 


Ulysses  and  the  Cyclops  267 

When  all  else  was  still,  Ulysses  whispered  the  word 
to  his  wakeful  crew.  From  the  litter  they  silently 
dragged  out  that  huge  stake  he  had  made  ready:  and 
blowing  up  the  fire,  heated  its  point  till  the  green  wood 
had  almost  burst  into  flame.  It  was  all  they  could  do 
to  bear  it  along  to  the  side  of  the  sleeping  giant.  When 
their  leader  gave  the  signal,  they  plunged  that  red-hot 
spit  into  his  eye,  and,  turning  it  like  an  awl,  they  bored 
a  hole  so  deep  and  so  wide  that  a  torrent  of  blood  gushed 
out  to  quench  the  fiery  brand. 

The  drunken  giant  started  to  his  feet  with  a  roar  which 
sent  them  quailing  backwards.  But  when  he  had  torn 
the  tormenting  brand  from  his  forehead,  all  he  could  do 
was  to  grope  blindly  around  him,  stamping  and  howling 
for  pain  and  for  rage  against  those  puny  enemies 
that  in  the  dim  firelight  could  take  heed  to  keep  out 
of  his  reach.  So  furious  was  the  alarm  he  raised, 
that  it  woke  his  neighbor  giants,  who  presently  came 
hurrying  along  to  the  cave's  mouth,  and  shouted  to 
him: 

"  What  ails  thee,  Polyphemus,  that  thus  our  rest  is 
disturbed?  Who  breaks  upon  thy  sleep?  Has  any  man 
found  means  to  hurt  thee?  Or  has  some  one  been  rob 
bing  thee  by  force  or  fraud  ?  " 

"  Neman  has  hurt  me ! "  yelled  back  the  blind  giant. 
"  Noman  is  robbing  my  flock !  Noman,  I  say,  has  played 
a  cruel  trick  upon  me !  " 

"  Then  if  no  man  does  thee  harm,  why  these  com 
plaints  ?  "  grumbled  his  neighbors,  while  Ulysses  chuckled 
over  his  sly  device,  all  the  more  as  he  heard  the  giants 
tramping  away  to  their  own  lairs  with  a  parting  word 
of  mockery  for  the  victim  of  a  nightmare,  as  they  took 
it  to  be.  "  If  the  gods  send  thee  pain,  take  to  prayer,  and 


268  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

rouse  us  no  more  to  give  help  against  no  man  in  mortal 
flesh!" 

Thus  left  to  himself,  the  blinded  monster,  pouring  out 
his  rage  in  tears  of  blood,  found  it  hopeless  to  lay  hands 
on  the  silently  exulting  foes,  who  all  night  long  remained 
shut  up  with  him  in  the  cave ;  yet  more  fiercely  his  dark 
mind  was  bent  on  revenge  against  that  insolent  Noman 
and  the  rest  of  his  crew.  Fumbling  about  till  he  touched 
the  rock  that  barred  the  entrance,  he  heaved  it  away; 
then  there  sat  down  with  his  hands  stretched  out  before 
him,  to  make  sure  that  none  of  the  men  should  slip 
through  among  the  flock  when  the  rosy  dawn  called  them 
forth  to  their  pasture. 

But  again  Ulysses  was  too  wily  for  the  thick-headed 
giant.  Through  the  night  he  had  been  busy  lashing  the 
biggest  rams  together,  three  and  three;  and  each  mid 
most  beast  bore  a  man  bound  to  it  by  osier  twigs.  The 
largest  of  all  he  kept  for  himself,  creeping  beneath  it, 
and  clinging  to  the  thick  fleece  below  its  belly.  On  this 
strange  steed  he  would  come  forth  last  of  all. 

So,  when  the  sheep  poured  out  into  the  dewy  uplands, 
the  Cyclops,  handling  each  as  it  slipped  past  him,  felt 
nothing  but  their  fleecy  backs.  Blind  as  he  was,  he  knew 
the  tread  of  that  big  ram,  the  pride  of  the  flock,  under 
which  lay  Ulysses,  holding  his  breath,  as  its  master 
stopped  the  beast  to  growl  out: 

"  Why  com'st  thou  last  who  wert  wont  to  lead  the  way, 
like  a  chief  among  thy  fellows?  Can  it  be  that  a  dumb 
creature  mourns  for  what  Noman  and  his  hateful  band 
have  done  to  its  lord?  Ah!  could'st  thou  but  speak  to 
tell  me  in  what  corner  the  wretch  lurks  within,  trembling 
for  the  moment  when  at  last  I  shall  dash  out  his  brains 
and  warm  my  heart  with  his  blood !  " 


Ulysses  and  the  Cyclops  269 

With  this  he  let  the  ram  go,  still  sitting  watchful  at  the 
entrance  barred  by  his  huge  hands.  But  as  he  sat  mut 
tering  threats,  to  his  strained  ears  came  a  mocking  cry 
from  without,  where  now  Ulysses  had  unbound  his  men, 
and  the  whole  band  were  hurrying  down  to  their  ship, 
driving  before  them  the  pick  of  the  giant's  flock. 

Heartily  the  crew  hailed  their  captain's  return,  and 
eagerly  they  would  have  known  how  it  had  fared  with 
him.  But  this  was  no  time  for  words.  Ulysses  bid  them 
push  off  in  haste,  taking  to  their  oars  as  soon  as  they 
had  heaved  the  sheep  on  board.  Scarcely  indeed  had 
they  launched  when  the  stumbling  and  shouting  giant  ap 
peared  upon  the  rocky  heights  above  the  shore. 

"  Ha,  ungracious  host !  "  cried  Ulysses ;  "  didst  thou 
think  to  gorge  thyself  on  me,  whom  the  gods  have  made 
an  instrument  to  punish  thy  churlish  manners  ?  " 

No  longer  able  to  see  his  exultant  enemies,  the  raging 
Cyclops  plucked  up  a  great  rock  to  hurl  after  them, 
guided  by  the  sound  of  that  mocking  voice.  So  near  it 
fell  that  it  had  almost  smashed  the  rudder,  and  raised 
such  a  wave  as  would  have  washed  the  galley  back  on 
shore  had  not  Ulysses  pushed  it  off  again  with  all  his 
strength,  while  the  rowers  bent  their  backs  as  for  their 
lives.  Though  they  begged  him  to  be  silent,  their  bold 
captain  could  not  refrain  from  once  more  raising  his  voice 
in  boastful  taunts  of  the  baffled  monster. 

"  Hear,  Cyclops !  Should  men  ask  who  blinded  thee 
and  made  thy  face  more  hideous  than  before,  say  not  it 
was  Noman,  but  Ulysses  of  Ithaca,  victor  at  the  walls 
of  Troy!" 

Again  the  giant  hurled  a  mighty  rock  that,  had  it  struck 
fair,  would  have  crushed  their  ship  like  an  eggshell. 
Drenched  by  the  splash,  they  rowed  with  might  and 


270  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

main,  and  were  soon  out  of  reach;  but  so  long  as  they 
could  hear  his  voice,  the  raging  giant's  curses  drove  them 
onward  across  the  bounding  seas. 

Thus  did  Ulysses,  by  his  cunning,  prevail  over  the 
brute  force  of  the  Cyclops,  for  Minerva,  goddess  of  Wis 
dom,  inspired  and  guided  him.  Then  soon,  with  a  hun 
gry  heart  craving  for  more  adventures,  he  sailed  to 
further  wondrous  lands  and  gathered  fresh  knowledge 
year  by  year. 


THE  SIRENS 

BY  V.    C.   TURNBULL 

CIRCE,  when  her  spell  was  broken  and  she  could  no 
longer  hope  to  keep  Ulysses  in  her  toils,  repented 
her  of  the  mischief  she  had  done  to  his  companions,  and 
in  a  sudden  fit  of  generosity  (for  though  fickle  and 
f reward  she  was  not  wholly  bad  or  heartless)  determined 
to  speed  her  parting  guest.  Not  only  did  she  know  the 
power  of  herbs  that  could  turn  men  into  beasts,  but  as 
a  goddess  she  could  see  into  the  future  and  foretell  what 
should  come  to  pass. 

So  on  the  day  of  his  departure  she  made  a  great  feast 
and  bade  Ulysses  and  his  crew.  And  they  ate  and  drank 
to  their  hearts'  content,  and  had  no  fear  that  they  should 
suffer  the  fate  of  their  companions.  But  Ulysses  she 
took  aside  and  revealed  to  him  all  that  should  befall 
him  on  his  homeward  voyage,  and  instructed  him  how 
he  should  avoid  the  perils  that  would  beset  him  on  the 
way.  And  first  of  all  she  bade  him  beware  of  the  Sirens 
— sea  maidens,  whose  song  is  more  musical  than  is 
Apollo's  lute;  no  mortal  can  resist  its  ravishment,  and 
he  who  listens  is  lost. 

But  Ulysses,  whose  soul  still  hungered  for  new  ad 
ventures,  said :  "  To  hear  such  music,  a  man  might  well 
choose  to  die.  Let  me  at  any  risk  hear  the  song  of  the 
Sirens !  " 

Then  the  goddess  instructed  him  how,  if  he  followed 
her  precepts,  he  might  hear  the  song  of  the  Sirens  and 

271 


272  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

yet  live.  What  the  instructions  were  there  is  no  need 
to  tell,  for  Ulysses  did  all  that  the  goddess  had  bidden 
him,  and  all  that  she  foretold  came  to  pass. 

So  on  the  morrow  the  crew  embarked,  and  Circe  send 
ing  them  a  fair  wind  they  were  carried  swiftly  upon 
their  way.  But  the  heart  of  Ulysses  was  heavy  as  he 
pondered  the  counsels  of  the  goddess  and  thought  on  the 
Sirens  who  had  drawn  so  many  men  to  their  death.  So 
he  stood  up  and  spoke  to  all  his  men,  saying: 

"  Friends,  it  is  well  I  should  declare  to  you  the  oracles 
of  Circe,  that  with  foreknowledge  we  may  shun  death — 
for  she  bade  us  shun  the  sound  of  the  voices  of  the 
Sirens,  and  me  only  she  bade  listen  to  their  song.  Bind 
me,  therefore,  in  a  hard  bond,  that  I  may  remain  un 
moved  in  my  place,  upright  in  the  mast-stead,  and  from 
the  mast  let  rope-ends  be  tied;  and  if  I  entreat  and  com 
mand  you  to  set  me  free,  then  do  ye  bind  me  with  yet 
more  bonds." 

The  men  gave  good  heed,  promising  to  obey  in  all 
things  the  commands  of  their  wise  leader. 

Meanwhile,  land  was  spied  ahead,  and,  Circe's  wind 
still  speeding  the  ship,  she  was  borne  swiftly  towards 
the  shore.  Suddenly  the  wind  ceased  and  there  was  a 
dead  calm.  No  sea-bird  cried,  and  the  very  waves  seemed 
spell-bound.  Then  Ulysses  knew  that  they  were  ap 
proaching  the  perilous  Isle  of  the  Sirens.  So  while  his 
men  were  furling  in  the  idle  sails  and  plying  the  oars 
once  more,  he  drew  his  sharp  sword  and,  cutting  in 
pieces  a  great  cake  of  wax,  kneaded  it  with  his  strong 
hands.  Then,  when  the  wax  was  soft,  he  anointed  there 
with  the  ears  of  his  men  as  they  sat  at  their  oars,  that 
they  might  not  hear  the  voices  of  the  Sirens.  And  the 
men  in  their  turn  bound  their  leader  hand  and  foot  up- 


The  Sirens  273 

right  in  the  mast-stead,  and  from  the  mast  they  fastened 
rope-ends.  Having  done  this,  they  sat  down  to  their 
oars  and  smote  the  level  waters. 

Fast  sped  the  ship  across  the  bay,  and  now  they  were 
within  hailing  distance  of  the  land.  And  there  on  the 
shore  stood  the  Sirens,  lovely  as  goddesses,  singing  and 
striking  their  golden  lyres.  Round  about  them  was  a 
green  meadow,  very  sweet  to  the  eyes  of  those  sea- 
worn  warriors,  for  the  white  bones  with  which  it  was 
strewn  appeared  but  as  lilies  such  as  they  remembered 
in  their  fields  at  home. 

Nearer  sped  the  ship,  and  now  the  Sirens,  seeing  the 
far-famed  Ulysses  on  board,  sang  yet  more  sweetly,  in 
this  fashion: 

"O  hither,  come  hither  and  furl  your  sails, 
Come  hither  to  me  and  to  me : 
Hither,  come  hither  and  frolic  and  play; 
Here  it  is  only  the  mew  that  wails ; 
We  will  sing  to  you  all  the  day : 
Mariner,  mariner,  furl  your  sails ; 
.  .  .  sweet  shall  your  welcome  be. 
O  hither,  come  hither,  and  be  our  lords, 
For  merry  brides  are  we: 

We  will  kiss  sweet  kisses  and  speak  sweet  words: 
O  listen,  listen,  your  eyes  shall  glisten 
When  the  sharp  clear  twang  of  the  golden  chords 
Runs  up  the  ridged  sea. 
Who  can  light  on  as  happy  a  shore 
All  the  world  o'er,  all  the  world  o'er? 
Whither  away  ?  listen  and  stay :  mariner,  mariner,  fly  no 
more."* 

So  they  sang,  waving  their  white  arms,  beckoning 
with  smiles  and  twanging  their  golden  lyres.  And  their 

*  Tennyson,  "  The  Sea  Fairies." 


274  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

voice  floating  over  the  waters  was  sweet  in  the  ears  of 
travel-worn  Ulysses — so  sweet  indeed,  that  forgetting  the 
wise  counsels  of  Circe,  he  called  to  his  company  to  un 
bind  him.  But  they,  having  their  ears  stopped  with  wax, 
could  hear  neither  him  nor  the  Sirens,  and  rowed  more 
swiftly  than  before.  So  Ulysses  made  signs  to  them, 
nodding  and  frowning,  whereupon  two  of  them,  Perime- 
des  and  Eurylochus,  remembering  his  former  words, 
rose  and  bound  him  yet  faster  to  the  mast.  And  bend 
ing  their  backs  the  rowers  pulled  their  hardest,  the  curved 
keel  shooting  past  the  perilous  shore.  Fainter  and  fainter 
grew  the  song  of  the  Sirens  as  now  they  were  left  be 
hind,  and  their  white  arms  could  hardly  be  seen  beck 
oning.  And  anon  a  breeze  broke  once  more  upon  the 
deadly  calm,  and  the  sails  being  hoisted  the  ship  was 
swept  out  to  sea  and  the  Isle  of  the  Sirens  became  but 
a  speck  upon  the  horizon  and  was  lost  to  view. 

So,  by  following  the  wise  counsels  of  Circe  of  the 
braided  tresses,  the  much-experienced  Ulysses  and  all 
his  comrades  escaped  the  wiles  of  the  Sirens  who  had 
enticed  many  to  their  death. 

But  when  the  Sirens  saw  themselves  at  last  defeated, 
their  song  was  turned  into  a  wail  and  their  white  robes 
seemed  like  wind-swept  foam  as  they  plunged  beneath 
the  wave.  But  the  Sirens  are  immortal,  and  though  no 
men  can  now  behold  their  white  bosoms  pressing  golden 
harps,  yet  their  voices  are  still  heard  and  still  they  sing 
the  same  song  that  they  sang  to  Ulysses : 

*' Surely,  surely,  slumber  is  more  sweet  than  toil,  the  shore 
Than  labor  in  the  deep  mid-ocean,  wind  and  wave  and  oar; 
O  rest  ye,  brother  mariners,  we  will  not  wander  more."* 

*  Tennyson,  "  The  Lotos-Eaters." 


THE  STORY  OF  NAUSICAA 

BY    M.    M.    BIRD 

ONE  night,  Nausicaa,  sole  daughter  of  Alcinous,  the 
Phseacian  King,  had  a  dream.  She  dreamt  that 
the  daughter  of  Dymas,  her  favorite  playmate,  stood  at 
her  bedside  and  gently  chid  her.  "  Shame  upon  thee, 
lie-a-bed,"  she  cried,  "  to  waste  the  shining  hours.  'Twill 
soon  be  thy  wedding-day,  and  thy  bridal  robe  and  the 
garments  for  thy  bridesmaids  have  still  to  be  washed  and 
bleached.  Get  up  and  ask  thy  father  to  order  for  thee 
the  wain  and  mules  to  draw  it,  and  we'll  all  go  a-washing, 
thou  and  I  and  our  favorite  playmates,  to  that  clear 
pool  where  the  river  pauses  before  it  plunges  into  the 
sea." 

At  dawn  Nausicaa  awoke,  but  daylight  did  not  dispel 
the  dream,  for  it  was  Minerva  herself  who  sent  it.  She 
waylaid  her  father  as  he  went  to  the  Council  of  the 
Elders  and  cried  to  him :  "  Father  dear,  may  I  have  the 
high  wain  and  the  mules  to-day?  There  is  much  soiled 
raiment  to  be  washed — mine  and  thine  and  that  of  my 
three  brothers  who  dwell  with  me  in  the  palace."  But 
of  the  bridal  of  her  dream  she  said  nothing,  for  she  was 
a  bashful  maiden. 

And  her  father,  smiling  at  her  strange  eagerness,  said, 
"  My  darling  child  may  take  the  car ;  whate'er  our  daugh 
ter  asks,  we  give." 

Swiftly  her  attendants  prepared  the  wain  and  har 
nessed  the  mules.  They  loaded  it  with  the  soiled  robes 
and  dresses  that  the  maiden  brought  from  her  bower, 

275 


276  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

and  the  good  mother  put  on  top  a  basket  filled  with  cates 
and  dainties,  and  a  wine-skin,  and  a  cruse  of  olive  oil 
wherewith  to  anoint  the  maidens  after  their  bath. 

Nausicaa  climbed  into  the  wain,  and  away  they  sped 
with  laughter  and  with  song,  this  bright  bevy  of  maidens. 
When  they  reached  the  spot  where  all  the  falling  streams 
emptied  their  waters  into  a  wide  basin,  they  unharnessed 
the  mules  and  let  them  loose  to  graze  on  the  plain,  while 
all  the  girls  set  gayly  to  their  task. 

At  length  they  had  finished  their  toil;  every  garment 
had  been  steeped  and  trodden  with  their  dainty  feet,  and 
rinsed  and  spread  out  to  dry  on  the  hot  sands,  which 
sparkled  in  the  sunlight.  Then  the  maidens  undressed 
and  dabbled  and  splashed  one  another,  and  frolicked  in 
the  crystal  pool.  Tired  with  work  and  play  they  anointed 
their  dripping  limbs  with  the  olive  oil  and  sat  down  to 
rest  in  the  shade.  And  Nausicaa  unpacked  the  basket, 
and  they  ate  and  drank  of  the  good  things  that  the  Queen 
had  provided.  This  done,  and  while  the  clothes  were  yet 
drying  in  the  sun,  they  played  ball  in  the  meadow,  toss 
ing  it  from  one  to  another;  and  all  the  while  Nausicaa 
guided  their  movements,  keeping  time  with  a  rustic 
ballad  measure. 

Meanwhile,  all  unknown  to  these  merry  maidens,  deep 
in  the  shelter  of  a  low-branched  tree,  Ulysses  lay  asleep. 
A  tempest  had  wrecked  his  ship  and  robbed  him  of  all 
his  companions,  and  he  had  only  the  day  before,  by  help 
of  the  goddess  Leucothea,  been  saved,  and  hardly  saved, 
from  the  devouring  sea.  Clinging  to  a  spar  he  had  been 
cast  upon  the  Phaeacian  shore  after  many  hours  in  the 
storm-tossed  deep.  Worn  and  bruised  by  battling  with 
the  breakers,  he  had  sought  shelter  under  the  drooping 
branches  of  two  ancient  olive  trees.  Beneath  this  covert 


The  Story  of  Nausicaa  277 

he  made  a  great  bed  of  fallen  leaves,  and  heaping  them 
above  him,  soon  fell  into  a  deep  slumber  sent  in  mercy 
to  restore  him  by  the  ever-watchful  Minerva. 

It  chanced  that  in  their  game  a  girl  missed  the  ball 
that  Nausicaa  threw,  and  it  fell  into  the  rapid  stream, 
and  was  lost.  The  girls  all  shrieked,  and  the  piercing 
cry  waked  the  sleeping  Ulysses. 

"  Alas !  "  he  lamented,  "  upon  what  inhospitable  coast 
have  I  been  cast?  Is  it  possessed  by  fierce  barbarians 
who  will  slay,  or  by  men  who  will  prove  pitiful?  Do  I 
hear  the  voices  of  nymphs,  or  dryads,  or  of  human 
maids?" 

The  hero  rose  straightway  from  his  leafy  bed,  and 
tearing  off  a  green  bough  to  hide  his  nakedness,  he 
stepped  forth  to  discover  his  fate.  When  the  affrighted 
maidens  saw  this  wild  and  savage  man  advancing,  they 
fled  and  hid  themselves  among  the  rocks  and  caves  of 
the  broken  shore.  Not  so  Nausicaa.  Inspired  by 
Minerva  with  a  boldness  not  her  own,  she  stood  and 
watched  this  strange  interloper.  He  was  now  close  to 
her,  but  he  dared  not  clasp  her  knees,  as  suppliants  are 
wont  to  do,  for  fear  of  alarming  her,  but,  keeping  his 
distance,  he  told  her  of  his  perils  by  sea.  For  twenty 
nights  he  had  been  wrestling  with  the  waves,  and  had 
hardly  reached  this  present  haven.  Now,  famished  and 
exhausted,  he  waited  anxiously  to  learn  where  he  stood, 
and  only  begged  some  garment  to  clothe  his  nakedness. 

"  Lady,"  he  added,  with  cunning  flattery,  "  I  know  not 
whether  thou  art  mortal  or  divine,  so  fair  a  maiden  I 
now  behold.  Only  once  in  Delos  I  saw  so  .goodly  a 
thing  as  thou — the  sapling  of  a  palm  tree  that  sprung  from 
the  altar  of  Apollo." 

The  fair  Nausicaa  was  touched  by  his  courtly  words 


278  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

and  bearing,  and,  marred  as  he  was  by  the  salt  sea- 
foam,  she  marked  his  noble  features.  She  answered  his 
questions  with  graceful  sweetness,  telling  with  whom  he 
had  found  refuge  and  assuring  him  of  their  hospitality. 
She  called  her  girls  and  blamed  them  for  their  idle  fears. 
Obedient  to  her  directions  they  led  Ulysses  to  the  secret 
pool  where  he  might  bathe,  they  gave  him  of  the  oil 
to  anoint  himself,  and  laid  ready  for  him  one  of  the 
shining  garments  that  they  had  just  washed  and  dried 
in  the  sun. 

The  maidens  surveyed  with  wonder  the  majestic  figure 
of  the  stranger  when  he  returned  to  them,  bathed  and 
anointed,  and  clad  in  the  pomp  of  royal  vesture.  And 
Nausicaa,  gazing  with  admiration  on  him,  whispered  a 
prayer  to  Heaven  that  some  such  noble  spouse  might 
fall  to  her  happy  lot. 

They  hastened  then  to  serve  him,  setting  before  him 
food  and  wine,  and  he  ate  and  drank  eagerly,  for  he  was 
half  starved.  Then,  as  evening  approached,  Nausicaa's 
cares  were  directed  to  their  return  to  her  father's  palace. 
The  mules  were  harnessed  to  the  car,  and  she  then  turned 
to  the  stranger  and  gave  him  instructions  how  to  reach 
the  palace.  For  fear  of  slanderous  tongues,  she  would 
not  permit  him  to  accompany  her  train,  but  caused  him 
to  follow  at  a  seemly  distance.  She  promised  to  go 
to  her  royal  father  and  intercede  with  him  for  the 
stranger,  whom  she  directed  to  follow  her  to  the  palace 
with  all  reasonable  haste.  There  she  advised  that  he 
should  seek  the  Queen,  Arete,  whom  he  would  find  at 
that  hour  busied  with  her  weaving.  If  he  disclosed  his 
mournful  tale  to  her  sympathetic  ear,  he  would  be  as 
sured  of  assistance,  and  doubtless  live  to  see  his  native 
land  once  again. 


The  Story  of  Nausicaa  279 

Thereon  she  whipped  up  her  team  of  mules,  and  they 
started  at  a  canter,  but  she  was  careful  soon  to  rein 
them  in  that  Ulysses  might  keep  pace  with  them.  But 
when  they  neared  the  town  he  stayed  awhile  in  a  sacred 
grove  while  Nausicaa  went  on  her  way  through  the 
crowded  streets,  where  all  turned  to  gaze  at  the  princess, 
and  thought  she  had  never  looked  so  beautiful.  At  the 
palace  gates  her  brothers  gathered  round  and  received 
from  her  hands  the  garments  she  had  washed  for  them. 
Then  she  hastened  to  her  mother's  chamber. 

Ulysses  slowly  approached  the  famous  city  of  the 
Phseacians.  Lest  the  lordly  mien  and  regal  robes  of  the 
stranger  should  attract  the  attention  of  the  low-born 
crowd,  Minerva  spread  a  mist  about  her  hero  wherein 
he  could  walk  unperceived  and  unmolested.  When  he 
had  passed  the  walls  of  the  city,  he  saw  a  girl  carrying 
a  pitcher  (it  was  his  goddess  in  disguise).  He  accosted 
her  and  begged  her  to  show  him  the  palace  of  Alcinous. 
This  she  did,  and  only  left  him  at  the  gates,  telling  him 
that  Arete  was  a  gracious  Queen,  and  if  he  won  her  fa 
vor,  she  might  speed  him  on  his  homeward  way.  She 
vanished,  leaving  the  hero  to  admire  the  beauties  of  the 
royal  gates.  These  were  of  massive  brass ;  a  high  cornice 
was  reared  above  them,  rich  plates  of  gold  overlaid  the 
folding  doors,  and  the  pillars  were  of  silver.  Two  rows 
of  sculptured  dogs  in  gold  and  silver,  formed  by  Vulcan 
with  divine  art,  stood  guardian  at  Alcinous'  gate,  and 
within  was  a  pleached  garden,  planted  with  fruit  trees 
of  all  kinds,  whose  fruit  faileth  not,  winter  and  summer 
alike.  Pear  ripens  on  pear,  apple  on  apple,  fig  upon  fig, 
and  new  grapes  redden  on  the  vine  while  the  old  grapes 
are  treading  in  the  wine-press. 

Long  while  Ulysses  gazed  and  wondered.     Then  he 


280  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

crossed  the  threshold,  and  passing  unperceived  through 
the  banqueting  hall,  he  sought  the  inner  chamber  where 
sat  the  royal  pair.  And  he  cast  his  hands  about  the  knees 
of  Arete,  and  besought  her  pity,  and  that  of  the  King, 
for  a  wretched  exile  worn  with  griefs  and  long  toil.  Then 
he  sat  him  down  among  the  ashes  of  their  hearth. 

The  King  was  moved  with  compassion.  He  raised  the 
suppliant  to  a  seat  beside  his  own,  and  bade  him  share 
the  feast.  After  pouring  a  due  libation  to  Jupiter,  the 
god  of  suppliants,  Alcinous  summoned  his  captains  and 
princes  to  meet  in  council  the  following  day  to  debate 
the  cause  of  the  stranger  and  devise  proper  means  to 
transport  him  safe  to  the  distant  shore  he  designed  to 
reach. 

When  all  had  taken  their  departure  and  Ulysses  was 
left  alone  with  the  King  and  Queen,  Arete  asked  him 
who  he  was,  whence  he  came,  and  who  had  given  him 
that  robe?  For  well  she  knew  the  garments  her  own 
hands  had  fashioned. 

Ulysses  answered  with  the  tale  of  his  shipwreck  and 
the  gentle  ministrations  of  her  fair  daughter,  but  his 
name  he  did  not  reveal.  But  Alcinous  answered :  "  My 
daughter  was  much  to  blame  in  that  she  brought  thee  not 
to  our  house.  Gladly  would  I  give  her  to  a  man  so 
goodly  as  thou,  and  I  would  bestow  on  thee  lands  and 
wealth  if  thou  would'st  stay.  But  no  man  will  I  detain 
against  his  will;  and  if  thou  would'st  depart  I  will 
furnish  thee  with  ships  and  an  escort  to  speed  thee  on 
the  way." 

Next  day  there  was  feasting  in  the  hall  to  entertain 
the  guest,  and  Demodocus  the  famous  minstrel  was  there, 
and  he  sang  the  Song  of  Troy,  of  Agamemnon  and  Hec 
tor,  aye,  and  of  the  feud  'twixt  Achilles  and  Ulysses. 


The  Story  of  Nausicaa  281 

And  Ulysses,  as  he  listened,  drew  his  cloak  over  his 
head  to  hide  his  tears. 

After  the  feast  there  were  games — racing,  wrestling, 
and  throwing  the  discus;  and  when  the  stranger  was  in 
vited  to  make  trial  of  his  strength  he  hurled  a  huge  rock 
that  flew  twice  as  far  as  the  farthest  quoit;  and  to  this 
day  the  islanders  point  out  to  travelers  Ulysses'  stone. 

Again  at  evening  there  was  feasting  in  the  hall.  And 
Ulysses,  as  he  came  from  the  bath,  anointed  with  oil  and 
clad  in  the  royal  mantle  that  Alcinous  had  given  him,  on 
his  way  to  join  the  feast,  met  the  white-armed  Nausicaa 
standing  in  the  doorway.  "  Farewell,  stranger,"  she 
whispered ;  "  depart  in  peace ;  and  in  thy  far  home  think 
sometimes  on  the  little  maid  who  saved  thee  from  the 
sea." 

And  Ulysses  answered :  "  Nausicaa,  to  thee  I  owe  my 
life,  and  if  God  grants  me  to  reach  my  home,  all  my  days 
I  will  do  worship  to  thee,  as  to  a  god." 

Then  he  hastened  to  join  the  f casters,  and  set  him  in 
the  seat  assigned  to  him  at  Alcinous'  right  hand.  No 
ticing  Demodocus,  the  sweet  minstrel,  standing  by  a  pillar 
alone,  he  called  a  henchman  and  said,  "  Take  from  me 
this  mess  of  wild  boar,  and  when  he  has  eaten  thereof 
and  drunk,  bid  him  sing  me,  as  he  will,  the  lay  of  the 
Wooden  Horse."  And  the  inspired  minstrel  brought 
back  to  him  so  vividly  that  tale  of  fire  and  carnage  that 
Ulysses  was  moved  to  tears;  and  Alcinous  asked  him 
whether  he  had  lost  some  kinsman  in  the  fray,  or  some 
friend  dearer  than  a  brother.  Then  Ulysses  disclosed 
his  name,  and  gave  the  King  the  full  and  true  story  of 
all  his  wanderings  from  the  fall  of  Troy  to  the  ship 
wreck  that  landed  him  on  this  friendly  shore. 

When  the  long  tale  was  ended  Alcinous  spake  to  his 


282  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

lordly  company.  "  Let  us  speed  our  parting  guest,  the 
bravest  and  the  noblest  that  has  ever  visited  our  land. 
With  raiment  and  gold  have  I  myself  furnished  him,  but 
each  of  you  give  him  a  tripod  or  a  caldron  for  a  keep 
sake." 

As  the  King  said  so  was  it  done,  and  Alcinous  himself 
saw  all  the  precious  gifts  safely  stowed  in  the  ship  he 
had  provided.  Then  they  pledged  one  another  in  a  part 
ing  cup,  and  Ulysses  bade  farewell  to  his  generous  and 
great-hearted  hosts.  Worn  out  with  the  emotions  of 
those  crowded  hours  he  wrapped  himself  in  his  mantle 
and  lay  down  to  sleep  in  the  stern,  while  the  spread  sails 
caught  the  freshening  breeze  and  the  galley  flew  over  the 
waters. 

When  the  morning  star  shone  bright  in  the  heavens, 
the  hills  of  Ithaca  appeared  like  a  cloud  upon  the  horizon, 
and  as  day  broke  the  ship  drew  into  a  little  bay  and 
grounded  on  the  sands.  Seeing  that  Ulysses  was  still 
wrapped  in  unbroken  slumber,  the  sailors  took  him  gently 
upon  his  couch  and  placed  him  on  the  rocky  shore  of 
his  own  Ithaca.  Alcinous'  royal  gifts  they  placed  be 
side  him  in  the  shade  of  a  wild  olive  tree.  Then  they 
relaunched  their  bark  and  sped  back  across  the  main. 

Thus  Ulysses  reached  once  more  his  native  land,  but 
the  end  of  his  perils  was  not  yet. 


THE  HOMECOMING  OF  ULYSSES 

BY    M.    M.    BIRD 

A7TER  ten  long  years  of  fighting  Troy  had  fallen 
and  the  kings  and  captains  had  sailed  away  bearing 
home  to  Greece  the  spoils  of  the  sacked  city.  Among 
these  chieftains  was  Ulysses,  lord  of  the  small  and  rocky 
island  of  Ithaca,  and  none  more  famous  than  he  for 
prowess  in  arms  and  yet  more  for  the  spirit  of  wisdom 
that  the  wise  goddess  Minerva  put  into  the  heart  of  her 
favored  warrior. 

But  while  the  other  leaders  straightway  sought  their 
homes,  Ulysses  roamed  the  seas  for  another  ten  years. 
The  goddess  Juno  loved  him  not,  and  often  drove  him 
from  his  course ;  and  he,  ever  yearning  to  gain  knowledge 
of  lands  and  men,  encountered  the  strangest  adventures 
in  his  wanderings,  some  of  which  you  have  already  heard. 
But  it  is  of  his  homecoming  that  I  have  now  to  tell. 

His  perils  and  adventures  were  not  ended  yet,  and 
without  Minerva's  aid  he  must  surely  have  perished. 

When  he  landed  on  the  rocky  coast  of  Ithaca  he  found 
himself  a  complete  stranger  in  his  own  land  after  twenty 
years  of  absence,  so  by  Minerva's  advice  he  disguised 
himself  as  a  beggar  that  he  might  discover  something 
of  the  state  of  his  kingdom  before  making  himself  known. 
His  queen,  Penelope,  had  suffered  great  troubles  and 
perplexities  all  these  years.  She  had  the  care  of  all  the 
lands  and  vast  herds  of  cattle  that  made  up  the  riches 
of  the  kingdom;  many  of  her  servants  proved  both  dis- 

283 


284  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

honest  and  rebellious;  and  now  a  number  of  the  neigh 
boring  princes  had  come  seeking  her  hand  in  marriage. 
For  all  men  held  that  Ulysses  must  have  perished  or  he 
would  surely  have  returned  ere  this.  Telemachus,  her 
young  son,  had  just  reached  manhood,  but  was  not  yet 
strong  enough  unaided  to  drive  out  his  mother's  bold  and 
shameless  suitors  and  restore  order  to  his  realm.  So 
the  suitors  continued  to  live  in  the  palace,  feasting  daily 
and  wasting  Ulysses'  goods  and  cattle  with  their  wanton 
extravagances,  while  they  continually  urged  Penelope  to 
marry  one  of  their  number  and  give  him  the  right  to  rule 
her  kingdom  for  her.  To  this  she  would  not  give  con 
sent,  for  she  loved  Ulysses,  and  wept  in  secret  over  his 
absence  and  longed  for  his  return,  though  she  scarcely 
dared  to  hope  for  it  after  so  many  years  had  passed  with 
out  news  of  his  safety. 

At  length  Telemachus  was  inspired  by  Minerva  to  set 
out  on  a  journey  to  seek  his  father.  The  goddess  accom 
panied  him  in  the  guise  of  a  wise  old  man  named  Mentor, 
to  assist  him  in  his  search.  After  adventurous  wander 
ings  he  reached  the  city  of  Sparta,  where  King  Menelaus 
reigned,  who  gave  him  news  of  Ulysses  and  counseled 
him  to  return  at  once  to  Ithaca  since  his  father  was  on 
his  way  thither.  Telemachus  hastened  back,  and,  arriv 
ing  before  he  was  expected,  went  secretly  to  the  house 
of  Eumaeus,  a  faithful  servant  of  the  King,  who  for 
many  years  had  filled  the  post  of  chief  herdsman  and 
keeper  of  the  royal  swine.  This  was  an  office  of  trust, 
for  much  of  the  wealth  of  the  kingdom  was  in  these 
herds  of  swine,  which  were  required  as  sacrifices  to  the 
gods  as  well  as  for  human  food. 

Ulysses  by  this  time  had  reached  the  house  of 
Eumaeus,  who  had  received  him  with  kindness,  and  fed 


The  Homecoming  of  Ulysses  285 

him,  although  he  did  not  recognize  his  King  in  the  aged 
beggar  he  found  at  his  door.  To  this  beggar  he  made 
complaint  of  the  King's  wasted  substance,  and  the  insuf 
ferable  behavior  of  these  suitors  of  the  Queen.  His 
tales  of  their  doings  made  Ulysses'  blood  boil.  He  could 
hardly  contain  his  indignation  sufficiently  to  sustain  the 
character  of  a  wandering  beggar  whom  these  things  did 
not  concern.  But  he  succeeded  so  well  that  Eumaeus 
had  no  suspicion  who  his  strange  guest  could  be. 

When  Telemachus  appeared,  Eumaeus  greeted  him 
with  the  tenderness  of  a  father,  for  he  loved  the  young 
man  dearly,  and  at  once  hastened  to  announce  the  joyful 
news  of  his  safe  return  to  his  mother  Penelope.  When 
thus  left  alone,  Ulysses  threw  off  his  disguise  and  de 
clared  himself  to  his  son.  Long  time  they  discussed  how 
best  to  take  vengeance  on  these  wicked  and  insolent 
princes  who  were  plotting  to  deprive  them  of  their  king 
dom  ;  and  they  decided  that  as  they  were  many  and  pow 
erful  it  was  needful  to  exercise  caution  and  overcome 
them  by  cunning.  Therefore  Telemachus  departed  to  the 
palace  and  disclosed  to  no  one  the  news  of  Ulysses'  re 
turn,  not  even  to  the  Queen  his  mother. 

The  wicked  suitors  had  planned  an  ambush  to  slay 
the  young  prince  as  he  made  his  way  home  from  his 
journey  in  search  of  his  father,  but  thanks  to  his  secret 
and  unexpected  arrival,  he  had  escaped  their  clutches. 

According  to  their  daily  custom  they  sat  down  to  a 
feast  in  the  hall  of  the  palace,  where  Telemachus,  put 
ting  on  an  appearance  of  great  friendliness,  joined  them. 
Thither  Eumaeus  persuaded  his  aged  guest  to  accompany 
him.  In  fluttering  rags  and  leaning  on  his  staff  as  though 
weighed  down  by  age  and  weakness,  Ulysses  passed  along 
the  road  to  the  palace  that  was  his  own.  Outside  the 


286  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

gate  they  were  met  by  Melanthius,  the  faithless  steward, 
whose  own  ill  deeds  made  him  show  spite  and  jealousy 
to  the  blameless  Eumaeus.  He  rated  the  old  beggar 
soundly  and  ordered  him  away,  and  when  he  protested, 
cursed  him  and  muttered  a  prayer  that  some  suitor's 
sword  might  pierce  the  heart  of  Telemachus  and  rid  them 
of  a  son  no  better  than  his  dead  father.  Ulysses  stood 
a  moment  in  speechless  rage,  doubting  whether  to  strike 
the  wretch  to  earth  with  one  blow  of  his  mighty  arm; 
but  wiser  counsels  prevailed,  and  he  curbed  his  anger 
and  bore  all  affronts  and  insults  with  a  noble  fortitude 
that  steadfastly  awaited  the  right  moment  to  strike. 

Passing  the  insolent  Melanthius  with  disdain  they  ap 
proached  the  door.  Lying  on  a  dunghill  beside  the  way 
Ulysses  beheld  his  aged  hound  Argus,  the  hero  of  many 
a  gallant  chase.  Now  neglected,  starved,  forlorn,  he  had 
crept  forth  to  die.  But  at  the  sound  of  his  master's 
voice  he  strove  in  vain  to  raise  the  wasted  body  that  was 
too  weak  to  move  from  the  dunghill  where  it  lay.  But 
with  tail  and  ears  and  eyes  he  proclaimed  his  joy.  A  tear 
stole  unperceived  down  Ulysses'  cheek.  He  questioned 
Eumaeus  about  the  hound,  and  as  he  paused,  the  noble 
creature,  to  whom  fate  had  granted  a  sight  of  his  master 
after  twenty  years  of  patient  waiting,  took  one  last  look 
and  died. 

When  Eumaeus  introduced  the  old  beggar  into  the 
banqueting  hall,  true  to  the  character  he  had  adopted 
Ulysses  went  round  to  each  reveler  in  turn  and  begged 
for  food.  Some  carelessly  flung  him  a  few  scraps,  giv 
ing  away  readily  what  was  not  their  own,  but  Antinous, 
the  most  lawless  and  violent  of  all  the  suitors,  abused 
him  and  threw  a  footstool  at  him,  striking  him  on  the 
shoulder.  Telemachus  indignantly  protested  against  this 


The  Homecoming  of  Ulysses  287 

act  of  violence,  and  Ulysses  was  permitted  to  sit  down 
by  the  door,  with  his  scrip  full  of  scraps  from  the  princes' 
well-filled  table. 

Presently  there  entered  another  beggar,  a  surly  va 
grant  of  great  stature,  named  Irus,  well  known  at  the 
tables  of  the  rich.  He  was  enraged  to  find  that  another 
had  been  before  him,  and  attacked  the  old  man  with  loud 
abuse,  finally  challenging  him  to  a  fight,  thinking  him  too 
weak  with  age  to  defend  himself. 

The  princes  applauded  him  and  urged  on  the  fight 
between  the  two  beggars.  Ulysses  pretended  to  fear, 
but  when  he  threw  off  his  rags  and  displayed  his  well- 
knit  limbs  and  great  muscles,  all  gazed  at  him  aston 
ished,  and  Irus  tried  to  escape.  He  was  caught  and 
dragged  before  Ulysses  and  forced  to  engage  in  the  com 
bat  he  had  provoked.  Ulysses,  knowing  his  own  strength 
to  be  invincible,  did  not  strike  with  more  than  half  his 
force,  but  the  first  blow  broke  the  sturdy  beggar's  jaw 
and  flung  him  to  the  ground,  from  whence  he  was  unable 
to  rise.  Ulysses  was  then  given  as  the  prize  of  victory 
a  stew  of  savory  meat. 

When  the  revelers  were  deep  in  their  cups  Ulysses  and 
his  son  Telemachus  stole  away  from  the  hall  and  con 
ferred  together  in  secret.  They  gathered  all  the  best  of 
the  weapons  in  the  armory  and  hid  them  in  a  convenient 
chamber,  to  be  at  hand  in  case  of  need. 

Telemachus  then  introduced  Ulysses  to  the  chamber  of 
his  mother  Penelope,  who  failed  to  pierce  his  disguise, 
but  listened  with  eagerness  to  the  account  the  beggar  gave 
of  his  wanderings  and  adventures.  He  claimed  to  have 
formerly  entertained  her  husband  in  Crete,  described  his 
appearance  exactly,  and  declared  to  her  joy  that  his  re 
turn  within  a  month  was  certain.  She  then  sent  him  to 


288  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

the  bath,  and  bade  Euryclea  wait  upon  him.  It  hap 
pened  that  Euryclea  was  his  old  nurse,  and  her  heart 
went  out  to  the  stranger,  for  in  his  look  and  voice  there 
was  something  that  reminded  her  of  her  absent  lord. 
Gladly  she  fetched  water  to  refresh  him  and  knelt  before 
him  to  bathe  his  feet.  He  remembered  the  long  scar  on 
his  thigh,  made  by  the  tusk  of  a  wild  boar  when  as  a 
youth  he  had  hunted  on  Parnassus,  and  he  strove  to  keep 
it  concealed.  But  the  loving  eyes  of  his  faithful  nurse 
pierced  the  tattered  rags  that  he  wore,  and  she  knew  him 
for  her  lord  and  master.  "  My  son — my  King !  "  she 
cried.  He  laid  his  hand  on  her  lips  to  stay  the  cry  of 
joy  that  broke  from  her,  and  gravely  warned  her  not  to 
betray  his  return. 

When  he  returned  from  his  bath,  the  Queen,  still  more 
impressed  by  his  noble  presence,  though  yet  she  knew  him 
not,  confided  to  him  a  design  she  had  planned  to  assist 
her  choice  among  these  suitors  who  were  all  distasteful 
to  her.  She  proposed  to  set  them  a  superhuman  task — 
to  bend  the  great  bow  of  Ulysses  and  perform  the  feat 
in  which  he  used  to  excel.  Two  rows  of  beams,  six 
in  each  row,  should  be  set  at  equal  distances  apart,  to 
support  twelve  silver  ax  rings,  and  through  each  line  of 
six  rings  the  archer  must  let  fly  his  arrow  straight  and 
true.  And  the  noble  archer  who  should  perform  this  feat 
should  be  rewarded  by  her  hand. 

Ulysses  applauded  this  design,  urging  her  not  to  fear 
to  name  herself  the  prize,  since  Ulysses  himself  would 
enter  the  lists  before  the  trial  was  over,  win  the  prize, 
and  claim  her  for  his  own. 

The  following  day  another  great  feast  was  set,  and 
the  princes  sat  down  to  their  feasting.  Ulysses  by  this 
had  watched  the  behavior  of  his  people,  and  now  under- 


The  Homecoming  of  Ulysses  289 

stood  who  were  faithful  to  him  and  who  deserved  no 
trust.  Into  this  scene  of  revelry  Penelope  entered  with 
her  maidens,  bearing  the  great  bow  and  arrows  of 
Ulysses,  and  challenged  the  princes  to  bend  this  bow  and 
shoot  the  arrow  through  the  silver  rings  as  her  lord 
Ulysses  had  been  used  to  do,  promising  that  he  who 
could  accomplish  this  should  be  her  husband. 

The  beams  were  already  set  in  place,  and  Telemachus 
claimed  his  right  to  try  his  skill  first  among  the  suitors, 
since  victory  meant  to  him  the  safeguarding  of  a  kingdom 
already  his  by  right  of  descent.  He  set  the  axes  in  line 
upon  the  beams,  with  the  rings  ready  for  the  flight  of 
his  arrow.  Three  times  his  young  arm  tried  to  bend  the 
bow,  three  times  he  failed. 

Then  all  the  princes  in  order,  from  right  to  left,  took 
up  the  bow  in  turn  and  tried  their  skill.  In  vain  they 
strained  their  muscles;  they  rubbed  the  bow  with  fat; 
they  warmed  it  at  the  flame  to  make  it  supple ;  they  tried 
every  device  to  bend  it.  The  tough  bow  bent  not  in  their 
impious  hands! 

While  they  strove  Ulysses  took  aside  Eumaeus,  and 
Philaetus  a  herdsman  and  one  who  had  remained  faith 
ful  to  him,  and  revealed  himself  to  them.  He  then  or 
dered  that  every  door  of  the  palace  should  be  guarded 
by  a  trusty  matron,  and  the  main  gate  secured  by  a 
cable,  and  bade  them  then  attend  on  him  in  the  hall. 
Telemachus  had  sent  his  mother  and  her  maids  away  to 
their  own  apartments,  and  asserting  his  authority  now 
directed  Eumaeus  to  bear  the  bow  to  the  disguised  beg 
gar,  that  he  might  try  his  skill  and  strength.  All  the 
suitors  were  furious  at  this  strange  favor  shown  to  a 
common  beggar,  and  it  was  amidst  a  scene  of  tumult  and 
confusion  that  Ulysses,  without  rising  from  his  seat,  bent 


290  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

the  bow  and  sent  his  arrow  straight  and  true  through 
the  silver  rings.  There  was  a  moment  of  silent  astonish 
ment.  Telemachus  hastened  to  gird  on  his  sword  and, 
taking  his  javelin  in  his  hand,  stood  by  his  father's  side. 
Ulysses  cried  aloud  to  the  suitors  that  he  had  won  the 
first  game  he  had  tried  to-day,  and  was  ready  to  play 
a  second  with  them.  And  another  arrow  winged  its  way 
straight  at  the  throat  of  Antinous,  who  had  raised  a 
golden  bowl  and  was  drinking  deep  of  the  wine.  The 
arrow  pierced  his  neck  and  he  dropped  the  goblet  and  fell 
lifeless  on  the  marble  floor. 

There  was  panic  in  the  hall ;  the  princes  looked  in  vain 
for  weapons  or  a  way  of  escape  from  the  doom  that 
menaced  them.  "  Airnest  thou  at  princes  ?  "  they  cried 
to  Ulysses  in  their  terror. 

"  Dogs !  ye  have  had  your  day !  "  cried  he,  and  declared 
his  name  and  estate  to  them.  Some  drew  their  swords 
and  rushed  on  him,  but  the  flying  arrows  pinned  them, 
and  they  fell  dead  in  heaps,  while  the  sword  and  javelin 
of  young  Telemachus  did  good  service.  At  length  every 
suitor  lay  dead.  The  hall  was  like  a  shambles. 

Then  the  unfaithful  servants  were  made  to  purify  the 
palace  and  afterwards  paid  with  their  lives  for  their 
misdeeds,  while  those  who  had  been  true  to  their  lord 
crowded  around  him  with  joy. 

Euryclea  flew  to  summon  the  sleeping  Penelope.  She 
was  unable  to  believe  the  glad  news.  "  Ulysses  comes ! 
The  suitors  are  no  more !  "  She  could  not  think  it  true. 
At  last  she  stood  trembling  before  her  lord,  still  afraid 
to  believe  it  was  he,  age  and  time  seemed  to  have  made 
him  so  strange  to  her  eyes. 

Then  Minerva  crowned  her  watchful  care  of  the  hero 
by  restoring  to  him  the  beauty  of  his  youth;  but  still 


The  Homecoming  of  Ulysses  291 

the  Queen  hesitated.  Ulysses  therefore  described  to  her 
the  marvels  of  the  bridal  bed  he  had  contrived  for  her 
of  the  huge  olive  tree  that  grew  in  the  courtyard. 

Penelope  saw  then  that  it  was  indeed  the  King,  who 
alone  could  have  known  the  secret  of  the  bed.  She  fell 
fainting  into  his  arms  in  a  transport  of  joy,  and  Ulysses 
once  more  resumed  his  sway  over  the  kingdom. 


BAUCIS  AND  PHILEMON 

BY   H.    P.    MASKELL 

ON  the  slopes  of  the  Phrygian  hills  there  once  dwelt 
a  pious  old  couple  named  Baucis  and  Philemon. 
They  had  lived  all  their  lives  in  a  tiny  cottage  of  wattles 
thatched  with  straw,  cheerful  and  contented  in  spite  of 
their  poverty.  Servants  never  troubled  them,  because 
they  waited  on  themselves,  and  they  never  had  to  con 
sider  the  whims  of  other  people,  because  they  were  their 
own  masters. 

As  this  worthy  old  couple  sat  dozing  by  the  fireside 
one  evening  in  the  late  autumn,  two  strangers  came  and 
begged  a  shelter  for  the  night.  They  had  to  stoop  to 
enter  the  humble  doorway,  where  the  old  man  welcomed 
them  heartily  and  bade  them  rest  their  weary  limbs  on 
the  settle.  Meanwhile  Baucis  stirred  the  embers,  blow 
ing  them  into  a  flame  with  dry  leaves,  and  heaping  on 
fagots  and  logs  to  boil  the  stewing-pot.  Hanging  from 
the  blackened  beams  was  a  rusty  side  of  bacon.  Philemon 
cut  off  a  rasher  to  roast;  and  while  his  guests  refreshed 
themselves  with  a  wash  at  the  rustic  trough,  he  gathered 
what  pot  herbs  could  be  culled  from  his  patch  of  garden. 
Then  the  old  woman,  her  hands  trembling  with  age,  laid 
the  cloth  and  spread  the  board.  It  was  a  rickety  old 
table.  One  leg  was  too  short,  and  had  to  be  propped 
up  with  a  potsherd. 

It  was  but  a  frugal  meal,  but  one  that  hungry  way 
farers  could  relish.  The  first  course  was  a  sort  of  ome- 

292 


Baucis  and  Philemon  293 

let  of  curdled  milk  and  eggs  garnished  with  radishes 
and  candied  cornel  berries,  served  on  rude  oaken  plat 
ters.  The  cups  of  turned  beechwood  were  filled  with 
home-made  wine  from  an  earthenware  jug.  With  the 
second  course  there  were  nuts,  dried  figs,  and  dates — 
plums  too,  and  sweet-smelling  apples,  grapes,  and  a  piece 
of  clear  white  honeycomb.  What  made  it  the  more  grate 
ful  to  the  guests  was  the  hearty  spirit  in  which  all  was 
offered.  Their  hosts  gave  all  they  had  to  give  without 
stint  or  grudging. 

But  all  at  once  something  happened  which  startled  and 
amazed  Baucis  and  Philemon.  They  poured  out  wine  for 
their  guests,  and  lo!  each  time  the  pitcher  filled  itself 
again  to  the  brim!  In  alarm  they  knelt  down  and  im 
plored  the  pardon  of  their  visitors,  for  they  now  saw 
that  these  were  not  mere  mortals.  They  were  indeed 
none  other  than  Jupiter  and  Mercury,  who  had  come 
down  to  earth  in  disguise.  The  old  couple  excused  them 
selves;  by  reason  of  their  poverty  and  the  lack  of  time, 
they  had  not  been  able  to  provide  them  a  better  enter 
tainment.  And  Philemon  hurried  out  and  gave  chase 
to  their  single  goose,  who  served  them  for  a  watch-dog, 
intending  to  kill  it  and  roast  it  for  their  guests.  How 
ever,  these  forbade  him,  saying :  "  We  are  from  above, 
and  we  have  come  down  to  punish  the  impious  dwellers 
of  the  plains.  In  mortal  shape  we  came  down,  and  at 
a  hundred  houses  asked  for  lodging  and  for  rest.  For 
answer  a  hundred  doors  were  locked  and  barred  against 
us.  You  alone,  the  poorest  of  all,  have  received  us  gladly, 
and  given  us  of  your  best.  Now  it  is  for  us  to  punish 
those  who  treat  strangers  so  churlishly,  while  you  shall 
be  spared.  Only  leave  your  cottage  and  follow  us  to  the 
mountain-top." 


294  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

So  saying,  the  deities  led  the  way  up  the  hill,  and  the 
two  old  folk  hobbled  after  them  on  their  crutches.  Pres 
ently  they  stopped  to  take  rest,  and,  looking  round,  saw 
all  the  country  round  sinking  into  a  marsh,  their  own 
hut  alone  left  standing.  And  while  they  gazed,  before 
their  very  eyes  their  cabin  was  changed  into  a  temple. 
The  stakes  in  the  porch  turned  into  marble  columns,  and 
the  door  expanded  into  a  great  carved  and  inlaid  gate  of 
bronze.  The  thatch  grew  yellow,  till  at  last  they  saw 
that  it  had  become  a  roof  of  gold  tiles.  Then  Jupiter, 
regarding  them  with  kindly  eyes,  inquired :  "  Tell  us, 
good  old  man,  and  you,  good  wife,  well  worthy  of  such 
a  husband,  what  boon  would  you  crave  of  us  ?  " 

Philemon  whispered  for  a  moment  with  Baucis,  and 
she  nodded  her  approval.  "  We  desire,"  he  replied,  "  to 
be  your  servants,  and  have  the  care  of  this  temple.  One 
other  favor  only  we  would  ask.  From  boyhood  I  have 
loved  only  Baucis,  and  she  has  lived  only  for  me.  Let 
the  same  hour  take  us  both  away  together.  Let  me  never 
see  the  tomb  of  my  wife,  nor  let  her  suffer  the  misery 
of  mourning  my  death." 

The  gods  willingly  granted  both  these  requests,  and 
endowed  them  with  youth  and  strength  as  well.  So 
long  as  their  lives  lasted  Baucis  and  Philemon  were 
guardians  of  the  temple.  And  when  once  more  old  age 
and  feebleness  overtook  them,  they  were  standing,  one 
day,  in  front  of  the  sacred  porch  and  relating  to  visitors 
the  story  of  the  temple.  Baucis  happened  to  turn  her 
gaze  on  her  husband  and  saw  him  slowly  changing  into 
a  gnarled  oak.  And  Philemon,  as  he  felt  himself  rooted 
to  the  ground,  saw  Baucis  at  the  same  time  turning  to  a 
leafy  linden;  and  as  their  faces  disappeared  behind  the 
green  foliage,  each  cried  to  the  other,  "  Farewell,  dearest 


Baucis  and  Philemon  295 

love  " ;  and  again,  "  Dearest  love,  farewell  " ;  and  trunks 
and  branches  took  the  place  of  their  human  forms. 

For  long  years  these  two  trees  were  pointed  out  to 
all  who  came  to  worship  at  the  temple,  and  many  loved 
to  bring  garlands  and  hang  them  on  the  trees,  in  honor 
of  two  souls  whose  virtue  the  gods  had  so  signally 
rewarded. 

And  still,  if  you  visit  the  spot,  you  may  see  an  oak 
and  a  linden  with  branches  intertwined.  What  more 
proof  would  you  have  that  this  tale  is  true? 


HYPERMNESTRA 

BY  V.    C.   TURNBULL 

DANAUS  and  ^gyptus,  two  brothers,  ruled  together 
over  Egypt.  And  to  Danaiis  fifty  daughters  were 
born,  while  ^Egyptus  begot  fifty  sons.  Yet  was  not 
Danaiis  happy;  nay,  he  went  all  day  in  fear.  For  the 
mysterious  voice  of  the  Theban  oracle  had  sounded  ter 
ribly  in  his  ears: 

WHEN   THY   DAUGHTER   MARRIETH, 
DANAUS,  THOU  ART  DOOMED  TO  DEATH! 

Never  could  Danaiis  put  these  words  from  his  mind. 
Walking  alone  in  the  gardens  of  his  palace,  he  started, 
thinking  one  whispered  them  in  his  ear;  at  the  banquet 
they  sounded  like  thunder  above  the  singing  of  the  min 
strels;  and  at  night  he  lay  trembling  on  his  bed,  hearing 
the  doom  of  the  oracle  spoken  in  low  tones  out  of  the 
darkness.  So  the  life  of  Danaiis  became  dark  and  bit 
ter,  and  his  heart  grew  hard  and  cruel  with  fear. 

Now  the  sons  of  y£gyptus  were  grown  into  comely 
youths,  and  to  their  father  it  seemed  but  fitting  that  they 
should  marry  their  cousins,  the  daughters  of  Danaiis, 
beautiful  maidens  all.  But  when  he  spoke  thereon  to  his 
brother,  a  great  terror  fell  on  Danaiis.  For  casting  his 
eyes  on  the  young  men  as  they  strove  together  in  their 
sports,  he  thought  with  bitterness :  "  Yea,  and  shall  one 
of  these  be  my  murderer  ?  "  Then,  in  fear  and  rage, 

296 


Hypermnestra  297 

he  turned  to  his  brother,  and,  snarling  like  a  wolf,  cried, 
"  Child  of  mine  weds  not  child  of  thine !  "  Whereat 
^Egyptus  raged  mightily,  swearing  to  fulfil  his  purpose, 
so  that  Danaus,  ever  cunning  rather  than  valiant,  made 
amends  for  his  hasty  words  and  promised  to  tell  his 
daughters  of  their  uncle's  pleasure. 

Howbeit,  that  night  Danaus  gathering  together  his 
daughters,  his  slaves,  and  his  goods,  secretly  left  the  pal 
ace,  and  flying  northward  to  the  coast  of  the  Great  Sea, 
there  took  ship  and  came  at  length  to  Argos  in  Greece. 
Gelanor,  King  of  Argos,  received  Danaus  and  his  daugh 
ters  with  kindness  and  feasted  them  with  royal  cheer. 
But  the  heart  of  Danaus  knew  not  gratitude,  and  having 
left  the  throne  of  Egypt,  he  sought  how  to  take  that  of 
Argos.  Nor  was  this  difficult,  for  Gelanor  was  at  strife 
with  his  people,  who  were  but  too  ready  to  seek  a  new 
ruler.  Therefore,  when  Danaus  spoke  to  them  fair 
words,  promising  them  many  things,  they  gave  glad  heed, 
and  ere  many  days  had  passed  Gelanor  was  driven  forth 
and  Danaus  ruled  over  Argos  in  his  stead. 

But  not  long  was  he  left  in  peace.  For  his  brother 
yEgyptus,  enraged  to  find  Danaus  forsworn,  and  hearing 
of  his  fortune  in  Argos,  called  his  sons  together  and 
cried  to  them,  saying :  "  Sons,  will  ye  suffer  yourselves 
to  be  fooled?  Shall  this  man  snatch  from  you  your 
brides  and  rule  in  peace  on  the  throne  which  he  hath 
stolen  ?  Nay,  if  ye  be  sons  of  mine,  go,  gather  to  your 
selves  a  mighty  army  and  take  from  him  his  daughters 
and  his  land,  and  the  gods  prosper  you  and  protect  your 
rights." 

Then  the  young  men,  kindling  at  their  father's  words, 
gathered  quickly  a  great  host,  and  sailing  in  a  fleet  to 
Argos,  they  harried  the  country  before  Danaus  knew  of 


298  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

their  landing.  And  when  one  ran  to  tell  him  of  their 
coming,  a  great  fear  struck  upon  his  heart,  for  louder 
than  ever  in  Egypt  sounded  in  his  ear: 

WHEN  THY  DAUGHTER  MARRIETH, 
DANAUS,  THOU  ART  DOOMED  TO  DEATH! 

So  with  fear  and  hatred  in  his  breast,  but  with  smooth 
words  upon  his  lips,  he  went  forth  to  meet  the  young 
men  and  their  followers,  who  were  even  now  at  the 
palace  gates.  All  that  they  demanded  he  promised. 

"Take  my  daughters  to  wife,"  he  cried;  "reign  over 
Argos  in  my  stead,  for  I  am  old,  and  weary  of  ruling  a 
strange  people ! " 

So  the  young  men  were  admitted  into  the  palace,  and 
the  maidens  their  cousins  received  them  with  mirth  and 
feasting,  and  the  day  of  their  nuptials  was  appointed. 

But  before  the  day  came,  the  crafty  Danaus  called  his 
daughters  to  him  and  commanded  them  on  peril  of  their 
lives  to  slay  their  husbands  so  soon  as  they  should  be 
wedded.  And  to  each  he  gave  a  sharp  dagger  to  con 
ceal  under  her  wedding  robe.  These,  therefore,  the 
daughters  of  Danaus  took,  purposing  to  obey  their  fa 
ther.  For  many  of  them  were  cruel  even  as  he,  while 
others,  caring  nothing  for  their  affianced  husbands,  feared 
greatly  to  disobey  Danaus.  So  it  was  that  as  they  took 
counsel  together  in  the  women's  chamber  after  leaving 
their  father's  presence,  there  was  but  one  voice  among 
the  maidens  as  to  the  wisdom  of  obeying  his  word. 

But  the  youngest,  Hypermnestra,  was  silent.  For  her 
heart  was  tender  and  pitiful,  and  Lynceus,  her  betrothed, 
youngest  of  the  sons  of  yEgyptus  and  the  fairest,  had 
moved  her  heart  to  love  and  tenderness.  Like  her  sis- 


Hypermnestra  299 

ters,  she  feared  her  father,  and  never  before  had  she  dis 
obeyed  his  orders;  but  love  conquered  fear,  and  pity 
was  stronger  than  filial  duty. 

Now  came  the  day  of  the  weddings,  and  at  night  a 
great  feast  was  spread.  Golden  lamps  shed  their  radi 
ance  throughout  the  palace,  and  clouds  of  incense  rolled 
up  from  the  altar  of  Hymen,  the  god  of  happy  nuptials. 
But  Hypermnestra,  heart-sick  at  the  mockery,  loathed 
the  rich  viands  and  the  fumes  of  incense  seemed  to 
choke  her. 

The  feast  was  over,  and  the  young  bridegrooms, 
crowned  with  chaplets  of  fresh  flowers  and  dressed  in 
wedding  robes,  had  drunk  deeply  of  drugged  wine,  and 
were  half  asleep  before  they  reached  their  bridal  cham 
bers — led  like  lambs  to  the  slaughter! 

Hypermnestra  sat  up  on  her  couch,  listening  with 
straining  ears.  Surely  it  was  groaning  she  heard,  on 
this  side  and  on  that.  Her  sisters  were  obeying  their 
father's  command,  and  dared  she  alone  be  disobedient? 
By  her  side  lay  young  Lynceus,  flushed  with  wine  and 
sleep,  his  head  thrown  back,  his  breast  bare.  Nearer  and 
louder  sounded  the  groans,  and  she  knew  that  Danaiis 
would  speedily  be  coming  to  count  the  dead.  In  her 
terror  she  raised  her  weapon,  and  would  have  stricken 
first  her  lover  and  then  herself. 

"  On  earth/'  she  cried,  "  there  is  no  escape.  I  will  die 
with  my  love,  and  we  will  go  together  to  the  realms 
of  Tartarus,  I  the  bride  and  he  the  bridegroom  of 
Death." 

But  as  she  bent  over  the  sleeping  Lynceus  her  hot  tears 
awoke  him,  and  he  stretched  out  his  arms  to  embrace 
her.  She  started  aside  like  a  guilty  thing  and  hid  her 


300  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

dagger,  and  cried  to  Lynceus :  "  Arise,  fly  hence !  else 
will  to-night  be  to  thee  an  everlasting  night !  " 

"  What  sayest  thou?"  he  murmured,  only  half  awake. 
"  Art  mocking  me  ?  Is  that  a  dagger  in  thy  left  hand  ?  " 

"  Rise  and  fly,  while  there  is  yet  time !  "  she  cried 
again.  "  Thy  brothers  are  already  dead,  treacherously 
slain  by  their  brides.  The  dawn  is  near;  soon  it  will  be 
too  late.  Leave  me;  fly!  I  cannot  bear  to  see  thee 
slain!" 

Then  Lynceus  sprang  up  and  fled,  and  scarcely  had  he 
gone  when  Danaiis,  gloating  over  his  victims,  entered  to 
see  if  Hypermnestra  had  been  obedient  as  her  sisters. 
But  Hypermnestra,  fearful  no  longer,  rose  and  faced 
him,  holding  out  the  bloodless  dagger. 

"  Take  back  thy  weapon,  cruel  father,"  she  cried. 
"  Nay,  and  if  thou  wilt,  smite  me  therewith,  slaying  me 
with  the  death  I  would  not  bring  upon  my  husband.  But 
not  in  death  itself  shalt  thou  hear  me  say,  '  I  repent.' >; 

Strong  and  beautiful  she  stood  there  in  the  dawn,  her 
eyes  shining  with  triumph.  But  her  father,  enraged  at 
the  escape  of  one  victim,  struck  her  to  the  ground  and 
ordered  slaves  to  drag  her  by  the  hair  to  the  palace 
dungeon.  And  not  many  days  after,  seated  in  the  city 
hall  of  justice,  he  caused  her  to  be  brought  before  him 
to  be  sentenced  for  her  disobedience.  So  slaves  dragged 
in  Hypermnestra,  and  she  stood  there  before  a  great 
multitude,  chains  on  her  hands  and  feet,  her  white  robe 
besmirched  by  the  dungeon,  but  with  the  light  of  triumph 
still  shining  in  her  eyes.  And  all  the  people,  seeing  her, 
cried  with  one  voice :  "  Spare  her,  O  king !  "  and  as  his 
wrath  burned  yet  fiercer  as  a  fire  that  meets  the  blast, 
the  prayer  became  a  threat :  "  Spare  her,  thou  cruel 
king !  "  But  Danaiis,  remembering  the  oracle,  gnashed 


Hypermnestra  301 

upon  them  with  his  teeth  and  rose  as  if  to  smite 
Hypermnestra  with  his  own  hand.  But  even  as  he  rose 
a  voice  like  thunder  smote  upon  his  ear :  "  Hold,  thou 
cursed  king !  "  and  the  crowd  made  way  for  a  young 
warrior  to  pass.  Like  a  young  god,  Lynceus  rushed  upon 
Danaiis  and  slew  him  at  a  stroke,  and  all  the  people  hailed 
him  as  King  over  Argos,  and  his  wife  Hypermnestra  as 
Queen. 

But  the  guilty  sisters  of  Hypermnestra,  seeing  what 
had  chanced,  fled  from  Argos,  whither  none  knew  or 
cared.  And  poets  tell  that  after  death  their  shades  in 
Tartarus  were  condemned  evermore  to  draw  water  in 
bottomless  urns,  a  warning  to  all  false  wives  and  traitors ; 
but  Hypermnestra  has  won  for  herself  a  name  that  will 
live  for  all  time  as  a  maiden  tender  and  true,  who  loved 
greatly  and  dared  greatly. 


CEDIPUS  AT  COLONOS 

BY   MRS.    GUY   E.    LLOYD 

NOT  far  from  the  beautiful  city  of  Athens,  and 
within  sight  of  its  temple-crowned  citadel,  the 
Acropolis,  lies  the  village  of  Colonos. 

Here,  on  the  slope  of  the  hill,  once  stood  a  sacred 
grove  of  laurel,  whose  evergreen  sprays  adorn  Apollo's 
hair;  of  olive,  planted  there  by  the  gray-eyed  goddess, 
Minerva,  protectress  of  Athens;  and  of  vine,  the  gift  of 
Bacchus. 

To  this  grove  there  came  one  day  an  old  man,  blind 
and  meanly  clad,  but  for  all  that  venerable  and  noble  of 
aspect,  the  unfortunate  King  CEdipus,  led  by  his  daugh 
ter  Antigone,  the  sole  prop  and  comfort  of  his  old  age. 

Sad  indeed  had  been  the  fate  of  CEdipus.  It  had  been 
decreed  by  the  immortal  gods  that  he  should  slay  his 
father,  King  Laius,  and  while  he  was  still  a  babe  in  arms 
La'ius  bade  his  servants  take  the  child  and  leave  him 
amongst  the  bare  rocks  of  Cithseron.  Here  the  forsaken 
infant  was  found  by  a  shepherd,  who  bore  him  far  away 
from  his  own  city  of  Thebes  to  Corinth.  Merope  the 
queen  chanced  to  see  the  child,  and  struck  by  the  like 
ness  to  her  own  child  whom  she  had  just  lost,  she 
adopted  him,  and  he  was  brought  up  in  the  palace,  be 
lieving  himself  to  be  truly  the  son  of  those  with  whom 
he  dwelt.  But  having  learnt  from  the  oracle  of  Apollo 
that  he  was  doomed  to  slay  his  own  father,  he  left  Cor 
inth  in  order  to  escape  that  doom,  and  on  the  road  it 

302 


QEdipus  at  Colonos  303 

fell  on  him  without  his  being  aware  of  it.  For  he  met 
a  choleric  old  man  in  a  chariot,  who  tried  to  thrust  him 
out  of  the  path,  and  in  defending  himself  against  the 
old  man's  goad  he  smote  him  with  his  staff  and  slew 
him,  not  knowing  who  he  was.  But  this  was  his  father, 
Lai'us,  King  of  Thebes. 

QEdipus,  journeying  on,  with  no  thought  but  to  get  far 
from  Corinth  and  avoid  all  possibility  of  parricide,  came 
by  chance  to  his  own  unknown  city,  Thebes.  Here  he 
delivered  the  people  from  a  monstrous  plague,  the 
Sphinx,  and  they  chose  him  by  acclamation  for  their 
king.  Thereafter  he  ruled  them  well  and  happily  till 
the  wrath  of  the  gods  fell  upon  them  for  the  unavenged 
murder  of  their  late  king.  Then  did  QEdipus  turn  his 
mind  to  seek  out  the  slayer  of  Laius,  and  seeking  dili 
gently  he  found,  in  the  end,  that  he  himself  had  slain 
the  king,  and  that  the  king  was  his  own  father.  In  grief 
and  horror  at  his  own  unwitting  crime,  he  stabbed  and 
lacerated  his  own  eyes.  To  crown  his  cup  of  sorrows 
he  was  driven  from  his  home  by  his  wicked  and  ambi 
tious  sons,  and  he  wandered  out  into  the  world  a  blind 
beggar,  guided  and  supported  by  his  faithful  daughter 
Antigone. 

Far  had  they  wandered,  and  they  were  worn  with  toil 
and  hunger  when  they  sank  down  to  rest  beside  the 
sacred  grove  of  Colonos.  Antigone  guessed  that  the 
tower-crowned  hill  she  saw  before  her  in  the  distance 
guarded  Athens,  but  she  did  not  know  what  place  this 
might  be  where  her  father  rested,  and  was  about  to  seek 
some  one  from  whom  to  inquire,  when  by  chance  a  man 
passed  by  along  the  road.  CEdipus  was  beginning  to  ask 
this  stranger  to  tell  them  somewhat  of  the  place  whither 
his  wanderings  had  brought  him,  but  the  man  interrupted 


304  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

his  half-spoken  question  by  telling  him  instantly  to  leave 
his  seat,  for  this  grove  was  the  home  of  dread  and  mighty 
goddesses,  and  no  man  was  permitted  to  set  foot  within 
the  close,  or  even  to  approach  the  precincts. 

Then  CEdipus  asked  the  name  of  these  goddesses.  The 
wayfarer  himself  called  them  Eumenides,  the  Gracious 
Ones;  at  Athens  they  were  known  as  the  Semnai,  or 
Dread  Ladies ;  but  their  proper  name  was  the  Erinys,  or 
Avengers  of  Blood. 

When  CEdipus  heard  this  he  was  glad,  for  the  oracle 
had  promised  that  the  end  of  all  his  woes  should  come 
when  he  reached  the  shrine  of  the  Dread  Goddesses, 
and  that  as  a  sign  that  his  troubles  were  over  there  should 
come  a  clap  of  thunder  from  a  cloudless  sky.  Moreover 
the  oracle  foretold  a  blessing  on  the  land  that  gave  him 
burial.  Therefore  CEdipus  begged  the  stranger  to  go  in 
all  haste  to  summon  to  him  Theseus,  the  great  and  just 
King  of  Athens.  But  meanwhile  the  Thebans  also  had 
heard  from  the  oracle  that  peace  and  prosperity  should 
be  to  the  last  resting-place  of  the  toil-worn  CEdipus,  and 
they  had  sent  out  to  seek  him  and  bring  him  back  to  his 
own  city. 

It  was  beside  the  grove  of  the  Dread  Goddesses  that 
the  Thebans  found  their  uncrowned  king,  but  he  refused 
to  return  to  a  land  that  had  driven  him  forth  from  its 
borders,  choosing  rather  to  die  where  he  was,  in  the  land 
of  his  adoption,  the  hospitable  state  of  Athens.  But  the 
Thebans  were  angered  at  his  refusal,  and  seized  and  bore 
off  his  faithful  daughter  Antigone.  And  the  old  king 
was  in  sore  distress;  but  when  he  appealed  to  Theseus 
to  help  him,  Theseus  stood  his  friend  and  pursued  the 
band  that  was  bearing  away  Antigone,  and  brought  her 
back  to  her  father,  safe  and  sound. 


CEdipus  at  Colonos  305 

Then  came  to  QEdipus  yet  another  to  crave  the  bless 
ing  of  the  uncrowned  king,  never  so  powerful  as  in  his 
last  hours.  This  was  Polynices,  the  elder  son  of  CEdipus. 
His  younger  brother  had  driven  him  out  from  Thebes 
and  taken  the  throne  himself,  and  now  Polynices  was 
collecting  an  army  to  go  back  and  drive  his  brother  away 
and  make  himself  king  again. 

But  CEdipus  would  not  help  his  wicked  son,  but  cursed 
him  instead,  foretelling  how  the  two  brothers,  the  last 
of  an  accursed  house,  should  fall  by  each  other's  hands, 
and  neither  of  them  should  ever  enjoy  the  kingdom  for 
which  they  strove. 

Antigone  entreated  her  brother  to  give  up  the  fatal 
feud  that  could  profit  neither  brother,  but  Polynices  said 
he  could  not  now  turn  back  and  desert  his  sworn  allies, 
and  he  departed  very  sorrowful  to  meet  his  doom. 

And  as  he  went,  from  the  clear  sky  there  came  a  sud 
den  clap  of  thunder.  Then  CEdipus  sent  in  haste  for 
Theseus,  for  he  knew  that  here  was  the  promised  sign, 
and  that  his  troublous  life  was  all  but  over. 

Theseus  came  quickly  to  see  what  was  amiss  with  his 
old  friend,  and  found  him  anxiously  waiting,  while  the 
thunder  roared  louder  and  the  forked  lightning  brought 
terror  to  all  the  beholders. 

Then  said  CEdipus :  "  The  gods  are  showing  now  that 
the  time  of  my  doom  is  come.  Blind  though  I  am,  I 
myself  will  guide  my  own  steps  to  the  spot  where  I  am 
doomed  to  die,  but  thou  alone,  O  Theseus,  shalt  know 
where  is  my  resting-place,  and  thou  shalt  tell  it  to  none 
on  earth  save  when  thy  death-hour  comes,  and  then 
shalt  thou  disclose  it  to  thy  eldest  born.  He  in  like  man 
ner  shall  hand  the  secret  on,  and  thus  shall  peace  and 
prosperity  forever  dwell  in  this  land.  Touch  me  not. 


306  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

Let  me  find  my  hallowed  grave  myself.  Think  of  me 
sometimes  when  I  am  gone,  and  thou  and  all  thy  state 
are  prosperous." 

Then  the  old  man  allowed  his  weeping  daughters  to 
lave  his  limbs  and  put  on  him  a  garment  meet  for  the 
grave. 

And  when  this  was  done,  and  Antigone  still  clung 
weeping  to  her  father,  there  came  first  a  roll  of  thunder, 
and  after  the  thunder  a  voice  that  called :  "  Ho,  (Edipus, 
why  tarriest  thou  ?  " 

Then  the  old  king  arose  and  called  on  Theseus  and 
begged  him  to  care  for  his  daughters,  and  Theseus  vowed 
to  be  a  true  friend  to  the  desolate  maidens.  And  CEdipus 
kissed  his  daughters  and  sent  them  weeping  away,  and 
only  Theseus  saw  the  blessed  end  of  a  man  in  life  more 
sinned  against  than  sinning,  or  knew  the  last  resting- 
place  of  the  body  of  King  CEdipus. 

Antigone  craved  leave  to  visit  her  father's  sepulcher, 
but  not  even  she  was  allowed  to  know  where  was  the 
secret  burial-place;  and  when  she  was  told  that  her  fa 
ther  had  willed  that  no  mortal  save  Theseus  should  know 
the  spot,  she  submitted,  and  only  begged  permission  to 
go  back  to  Thebes  and  try  to  save  her  brothers  from 
their  doom.  But  it  was  in  vain  that  the  gentle  maiden 
strove  to  bring  peace  where  was  nothing  but  hatred.  The 
two  brothers,  fighting  in  single  combat,  slew  each  other, 
and  because  Polynices  had  brought  a  great  host  against 
his  own  city,  the  Thebans  cast  his  body  without  their 
walls  and  forbade  that  any  man  should  sprinkle  dust 
upon  it,  so  should  its  soul  never  find  rest,  as  a  punish 
ment  for  all  its  misdeeds.  But  Antigone  would  not 
leave  her  brother's  corpse  unburied.  Her  sister  Ismene 
dared  not  help  in  such  a  deed,  so  the  heroic  maiden 


GEdipus  at  Colonos  307 

went  alone,  poured  the  three  libations  due  to  the  dead, 
and  scattered  dust  upon  her  brother's  body,  thus  giving 
rest  to  his  soul. 

Then  Creon,  King  of  the  Thebans,  was  wroth  with 
the  maiden,  and  he  commanded  that  she  should  be  taken 
to  a  cave,  and  the  mouth  be  barred  with  rocks.  She 
should  be  given  just  enough  food  and  water  to  prevent  the 
guilt  of  her  death  falling  upon  the  city,  and  left  to  pine 
away  in  her  rocky  dungeon.  And  the  guards  led  her 
away  and  did  the  king's  bidding.  But  when  Creon's  only 
son  heard  what  was  done  he  forced  his  way  into  that 
tomb  of  the  living,  for  he  loved  Antigone,  and  would  have 
delivered  her  at  the  price  of  his  own  life.  For  this  he 
was  too  late;  the  princess  had  not  waited  to  die  by  slow 
starvation  within  the  walled-up  cavern,  she  had  strangled 
herself.  The  young  prince,  in  his  despair,  smote  himself 
with  his  own  sword  and  fell  dead  beside  the  body  of 
Antigone.  So  was  the  vengeance  of  the  Erinys  accom 
plished,  and  the  work  of  the  Avengers  of  Blood  ended. 


MIDAS 

BY  H.   P.   MASKELL 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  was  born  to  Gordius,  King 
of  Phrygia,  a  son  whom  he  named  Midas.  While 
this  son  was  an  infant  in  his  cradle  the  ants  were  seen 
to  creep  in  and  put  grains  of  golden  wheat  into  his 
mouth.  From  this  the  wise  men  foretold  that  he  would 
be  exceeding  rich  and  miserly,  and  choked  with  riches. 

When  Midas  grew  up  to  manhood  and  succeeded  his 
father  as  king,  it  was  soon  proved  that  the  seers  were 
true  prophets.  He  loved  wealth  and  riches  for  their  own 
sake.  Merchants  were  sent  far  and  wide  to  trade  in  all 
kinds  of  produce,  and  brought  back  their  gains  to  swell 
his  coffers.  He  caused  mines  to  be  dug  for  the  precious 
metals.  As  fast  as  the  money  came  in  he  invested  it 
again  in  new  ventures,  and  everything  he  undertook  suc 
ceeded.  Hence  the  saying  arose :  "  All  that  Midas  touches 
turns  into  gold." 

Now  it  happened  that  Silenus,  the  foster-father  of 
Bacchus,  had  wandered  into  Phrygia,  and  being  an  old 
man  and  overcome  with  wine — he  was  a  terrible  toper — 
the  rustics  used  him  roughly;  and  when  he  was  sober 
they  bound  him  with  cords  and  took  him  as  a  prisoner 
to  Midas.  The  king  had  been  taught  the  rites  of  Bacchus, 
and  as  soon  as  he  recognized  Silenus,  he  rebuked  the 
ignorant  rustics  and  treated  him  with  great  honor,  or 
daining  a  special  festival  of  ten  days  and  ten  nights  to 
celebrate  the  visit  of  his  guest.  Bacchus,  meanwhile,  had 

308 


Midas  309 

been  mourning  the  loss  of  his  tutor.  In  gratitude  to 
Midas  for  restoring  his  foster-father  and  preserving  him 
from  insult,  he  gave  Midas  the  choice  of  any  favor  he 
desired. 

"  All  I  desire,"  replied  Midas,  "  is  to  be  the  richest 
king  on  earth.  Make  that  a  truth  which  men  say  about 
me,  that  everything  I  touch  shall  turn  to  gold." 

"  You  might  have  asked  for  something  better,"  mur 
mured  the  god,  with  a  sigh.  "  But  as  you  wish,  so  shall 
it  be." 

Scarcely  able  to  believe  it  could  be  true,  Midas  hur 
ried  away  to  test  the  reality  of  his  good  fortune.  An 
oak  grew  by  the  roadside.  He  took  hold  of  a  small  twig ; 
it  was  a  twig  of  gold.  He  picked  up  a  clod  of  earth; 
it  was  no  longer  clay,  but  a  huge  nugget.  Passing  through 
a  cornfield,  all  the  ears  that  brushed  against  his  hand 
became  ears  of  gold.  Plucking  an  apple  from  a  tree,  it 
was  at  once  like  to  the  golden  apple  that  Paris  gave  to 
Venus. 

When  he  reached  his  palace  and  put  his  hand  upon 
the  doorpost,  the  wood  turned  yellow  and  glistened  at 
his  touch.  The  basin  in  which  he  washed  his  hands 
became  a  golden  bowl,  filled  to  the  brim  with  gold-dust. 

"  Now,  indeed,"  he  cried  with  joy,  "  wealth  and  power 
are  mine.  My  riches  will  be  endless.  Thanks  be  given 
to  the  gods  for  this  most  wonderful  and  precious  of  all 
gifts.  What  in  the  world  is  better  than  gold?" 

While  he  was  thus  rejoicing,  his  servants  entered  and 
spread  the  table  for  a  banquet.  He  seated  himself  and 
took  a  piece  of  bread  in  his  hand.  But  it  was  no  longer 
bread;  it  was  hard,  solid  gold.  He  seized  a  goblet  of 
wine,  but  to  no  purpose;  he  could  not  quench  his  thirst 
with  a  stream  of  gold !  Too  late  he  saw  his  folly.  The 


310  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

richest  man  on  earth,  he  was  doomed  to  die  of  hunger 
and  thirst.  Nothing  on  earth  was  so  useless  to  him  as 
his  gold! 

Raising  his  hands  towards  heaven,  he  implored  the 
pardon  of  the  gods.  "  Have  mercy  on  me,  for  I  repent 
me  of  my  greed;  have  pity  and  deliver  me  from  this 
awful  curse !  " 

Bacchus,  seeing  that  he  was  cured  of  his  sordid  folly, 
took  pity  on  him,  and  showed  him  how  the  baneful  gift 
could  be  got  rid  of.  "  Go  to  Sardis,"  said  he,  "  and  track 
the  river  to  its  well-head.  Plunge  thy  head  beneath  the 
bubbling  spring,  and  purge  thyself  from  the  curse."  The 
king  hastened  to  bathe  in  the  spring,  and  so  gained  relief : 
the  golden  virtue  left  the  human  body  and  entered  into 
the  water.  And  even  now  the  sands  of  Pactolus  glitter 
with  grains  of  gold-dust. 

After  this  stern  lesson,  Midas  no  longer  cared  to  go 
on  amassing  riches,  but  turned  his  attention  to  country 
sports  and  to  music.  Sad  to  tell,  however,  his  folly  and 
conceit  led  to  trouble  even  in  this,  for  he  was  but  a 
sorry  musician,  and  yet  he  set  up  for  being  a  virtuoso. 
Some  nymphs  had  listened  with  pleasure  to  Pan  playing 
on  his  rustic  reeds,  and  persuaded  the  minstrel  to  chal 
lenge  Apollo,  God  of  Music,  to  a  contest.  Old  Tmolus, 
the  ruler  of  the  mountain,  agreed  to  act  as  umpire.  Pan's 
music  was  rude  and  uncouth;  but  when  Apollo  touched 
the  strings  of  his  lyre  his  very  posture  showed  the 
master's  skill,  and  so  sweet  were  the  notes  that  all  pres 
ent  agreed  with  the  decision  that  to  Apollo  the  prize  must 
be  given.  Midas  alone  protested  that  the  judgment  was 
unfair,  and  that  Pan's  music  was  superior.  As  a  fit 
punishment  for  his  crass  stupidity  Apollo  caused  his  ears 


Midas  311 

to  grow  longer  and  longer,  with  gray  hairs  all  over  them, 
and  twitching  like  the  ears  of  an  ass.  Midas  fled  away 
amid  the  laughter  of  the  deities  and  nymphs,  and  as 
quickly  as  possible  concealed  his  disgrace  under  a  thick 
turban. 

None  of  the  people  of  Phrygia  had  been  present  at  the 
musical  contest,  and  for  a  long  time  Midas  succeeded  in 
hiding  the  shameful  deformity  from  his  subjects.  How 
ever,  the  barber  who  trimmed  his  hair  was  obliged  to 
know  of  it.  He  did  not  dare  tell  any  one  what  he  had 
seen;  yet  he  found  it  harder  every  day  to  keep  such  a 
secret  to  himself.  At  last,  as  the  only  way  he  could 
conceive  to  relieve  his  mind  of  the  burden,  he  went  into 
a  distant  field,  dug  a  hole  in  the  ground,  and  whispered 
into  it,  "  Midas  has  ass's  ears."  Then  he  shoveled  the 
earth  back,  having  delivered  himself,  and  yet,  as  he 
thought,  buried  the  secret  quite  safely. 

A  year  passed.  A  clump  of  reeds  had  grown  on  the 
spot  where  the^fatal  secret  lay  buried.  The  reeds  rustled 
gently  as  they  were  stirred  by  the  south  wind,  and  the 
goatherds  passing  by  with  their  flocks  were  drawn  to  the 
place  by  the  strange  sounds  that  arose.  The  reeds  seemed 
to  be  whispering  the  story  one  to  another :  "  Midas  has 
ass's  ears." 

And  the  wind  carried  the  news  to  the  reeds  on  the 
thatched  sheds  of  the  farm,  so  that  they  were  soon  quiv 
ering  to  tell  their  tale — when  the  farmer  came  in  to 
supper,  his  goodwife  called  to  him :  "  Such  a  funny  say 
ing  has  been  running  in  my  head  all  day — where  it  comes 
from  is  a  mystery :  '  Midas  has  ass's  ears.' ): 

The  flowers  told  it  to  the  trees,  and  the  trees  told  it 
to  the  birds.  Men  and  women  learnt  it  they  knew  not 
how,  but  all  who  heard  it  found  themselves  forced  by 


312  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

some  mysterious  impulse  to  repeat  it  to  their  neighbors, 
till  all  through  the  land  of  Phrygia  rang  the  strange 
tidings :  "  Midas  has  ass's  ears !  " 

The  hunger  for  gold  may  be  cured,  if  taken  in  time; 
but  not  even  a  god  can  cure  one  who  has  ass's  ears  and 
lets  the  secret  out. 


PERSEUS  AND  ANDROMEDA 

BY  V.    C.   TURNBULL 

ON  the  shores  of  the  Great  Sea  there  dwelt  in  ancient 
times  a  simple  folk  of  shepherds  and  tillers  of  the 
ground,  who  called  themselves  the  Blameless  ^Ethiops. 
They  were  a  pious  race,  and  worshiped  in  particular 
Atergatis,  Queen  of  the  Fishes.  Year  by  year  they  dwelt 
in  peace  among  their  flocks  and  herds,  their  fields  of  bar 
ley  and  flax,  and  their  vines  that  bore  purple  grapes  on 
the  sunny  hillsides. 

But  a  great  trouble  fell  upon  this  happy  folk.  For 
the  earth  heaved  and  yawned,  and  the  dwellings  of  the 
people  fell,  and  the  sea  poured  in  on  the  land,  flooding 
and  laying  waste  the  golden  harvest  fields.  Then  a 
greater  terror  followed,  for  out  of  the  sea  rose  a  monster 
huge  and  terrible,  such  as  never  man  had  seen.  Riding 
on  the  flood  he  came,  bearing  down  upon  the  terrified 
people,  and  into  his  maw  he  swept  their  fattest  sheep 
and  kine,  and  also,  alas!  their  fairest  sons  and  daugh 
ters.  And  thus  he  came  night  after  night,  till  the  people's 
hearts  failed  them,  and  in  their  utter  misery  they  sought 
counsel  of  their  king.  And  King  Cepheus  spoke  unto 
them,  and  said :  "  Surely,  my  people,  ye  have  sinned, 
and  offended  our  great  sea-god.  Let  us  go  to  his  tem 
ple  and  offer  gifts,  and  inquire  of  his  priests,  and  learn 
which  of  you  has  sinned." 

So  they  went  with  their  King  Cepheus  to  consult  the 
priests  of  the  sea-gods  whom  they  worshiped.  And  when 

313 


314  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

many  sacrifices  had  been  offered,  the  priests  cast  lots 
to  find  who  it  was  who  had  angered  the  gods  and  caused 
them  to  plague  the  land.  And  the  lot  fell  upon  Cassi- 
opoeia,  the  queen. 

Then  Cassiopceia  stood  up  before  all  the  people,  her 
ebon  hair  falling  to  her  feet  and  her  eyes  shining  with 
tears,  as  she  cried,  and  said:  "O  my  friends,  I  have 
sinned  in  my  pride,  and  brought  this  evil  on  your  homes. 
For  not  many  days  since  my  heart  was  lifted  up  and  I 
boasted  myself  fairer  than  all  the  Nereids.  And  they, 
hearing,  have  risen  in  their  wrath  to  avenge  the  insult. 
Pardon  me,  O  my  friends,  for  thus  have  I  drawn  desola 
tion  upon  our  land." 

And  all  the  people  were  silent,  but  the  priests  made 
answer :  "  Truly  hast  thou  spoken,  O  Queen,  and  as 
suredly  has  thy  boasting  been  our  curse.  Now,  there 
fore,  take  thy  daughter  Andromeda  and  bind  her  to  a 
rock  on  the  seashore,  so  that  when  the  monster  cometh 
again  he  shall  see  that  we  have  given  him  our  best,  even 
our  king's  daughter.  Perchance  he  will  have  mercy  and 
spare  her  when  he  sees  our  repentance,  but  anywise  he 
will  depart  whence  he  came  and  trouble  us  no  more." 

Then  King  Cepheus  and  Queen  Cassiopoeia  rose  up 
and  went  down  to  their  palace  in  grief  too  great  for 
tears.  And  they  took  Andromeda,  their  only  child,  the 
fairest  maiden  in  the  land,  and  withal  the  tenderest  and 
truest,  and  carried  her  down  to  the  sea-shore.  And  all 
the  people  followed,  weeping  bitterly,  for  to  many  of 
them  Andromeda  had  spoken  kind  words,  and  to  not  a 
few  had  she  done  gracious  deeds.  Yet  when  they  thought 
on  their  own  desolate  homes,  where  no  children  played, 
they  told  themselves  that  the  young  princess  must  die 
for  the  people. 


Perseus  and  Andromeda  315 

So  they  led  Andromeda  to  the  base  of  a  sea-washed 
crag,  and  riveted  her  white  arms  with  chains  of  brass  to 
the  black  rock.  And  Cassiopoeia,  kissing  her,  cried :  "  O 
child,  forgive  thy  wretched  mother !  " 

And  Andromeda  answered :  "  It  is  not  thou,  mother, 
but  the  sea-god  who  hath  done  me  to  death." 

And  the  queen  kissed  her  yet  again,  and  departed 
weeping.  All  the  people  followed,  and  night  fell,  and 
she  was  left  alone.  Out  of  the  sky  looked  down  the  white 
moon  behind  the  cloud  rack,  and  not  more  fair  was  she 
than  this  maiden  standing  on  the  black  rock  like  a  white 
statue,  half  hid  by  the  streaming  locks  that  rippled  to  her 
knee. 

So  all  night  she  stood  and  waited  for  her  doom,  most 
time  mute  with  terror,  but  at  whiles  lamenting,  and  call 
ing  on  the  gods  for  pity.  But  no  answer  came  save  the 
thunder  of  the  sea  upon  the  rocks  and  the  scream  of  the 
sea-birds  wheeling  between  earth  and  sky. 

Morning  came,  flinging  roses  from  her  car  and  scat 
tering  gold  across  the  waters,  and  as  those  in  bitterest 
pain  of  heart  take  strange  note  of  passing  things,  An 
dromeda's  eyes,  dull  and  despairing,  watched  the  sea- 
birds  at  their  play.  Among  them  came  one  flying  swifter 
and  greater  than  osprey  or  sea-eagle,  and  the  gulls  all 
dived  at  his  approach.  As  the  winged  form  drew  nigh 
Andromeda  was  aware  that  this  was  no  sea-bird;  and 
soon  she  perceived  a  youth,  godlike  and  strong,  whose 
plumed  sandals  carried  him  over  the  deep  as  lightly  as 
if  he  had  been  indeed  a  bird.  Blue  as  the  sea  were  his 
eyes,  and  his  hair  shone  in  the  morning  sun  like  spun 
gold.  From  his  shoulder  floated  a  goat-skin,  on  his  arm 
he  carried  a  brazen  shield,  and  on  his  thigh  hung  a  sword 
that  flashed  like  diamonds  in  the  sun.  Straight  to 


316  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

Andromeda  he  flew,  and  putting  back  the  hair  that  cov 
ered  her  face  he  gazed  into  her  eyes  with  love  and  pity, 
as  he  cried:  "O  maiden,  beautiful  and  pitiful,  what 
cruelty  hath  brought  thee  to  this  pass  ?  " 

But  Andromeda,  wan  and  weak  after  the  terrors  of  the 
night,  could  only  hang  her  head  and  weep.  So  Perseus 
drew  his  diamond  sword  and  smote  through  her  chains, 
and  gathered  her,  set  free,  to  his  breast.  But  when  she 
had  wept  there  a  little  space  Andromeda  thrust  him  away 
with  a  sharp  cry. 

"  Oh,  leave  me !  "  she  wailed,  "  for  I  am  the  accursed 
one,  the  victim  offered  to  the  angry  gods.  Come  not  be 
tween  me  and  my  doom,  for  I  suffer  in  the  people's 
place." 

"  Never  will  I  leave  thee,"  answered  Perseus,  "  and 
never  shalt  thou  suffer  while  I  have  strength  to  draw 
sword  in  thy  defense." 

But  Andromeda  only  wept  the  more  and  begged  him 
again  to  be  gone,  and  he,  thinking  to  calm  her,  again 
entreated  to  hear  the  story  of  her  sad  plight.  So 
Andromeda  told  him  why  she  was  being  offered  up  to 
the  monster,  and  as  she  finished  speaking,  her  eyes,  wan 
dering  seaward,  widened  with  horror,  and  she  shrieked 
aloud :  "  It  comes !  it  comes !  Oh,  kind  and  godlike  youth, 
fly  ere  it  is  too  late!  Leave  me;  let  not  thine  eyes  be 
hold  my  shameful  end !  " 

But  Perseus,  kissing  the  tears  from  her  face,  laughed 
aloud  and  made  a  mock  of  the  great  fish-beast  which  even 
now,  like  a  leviathan  of  the  deep,  could  be  seen  plowing 
its  way  towards  them  across  the  sea. 

"  Shall  I  flee  from  a  beast  of  the  deep  ?  "  he  asked. 
"  Maiden,  my  father  was  Jupiter,  king  of  the  gods,  and 
the  great  goddess  Minerva  hath  me  under  her  protection. 


page  316] 


PERSEUS    AND    ANDROMEDA 


Perseus  and  Andromeda  317 

From  her  I  received  this  shield,  and  from  Mercury, 
swiftest  of  the  gods,  a  cap  of  darkness,  these  sandals, 
and  this  sword.  Then,  at  Minerva's  bidding,  I  sped 
northward  through  regions  where  man  nor  beast  hath 
trodden.  There  found  I  the  Gray  Sisters,  and  snatched 
from  them  their  one  eye,  keeping  it  till  they  told  me  the 
way  to  the  garden  of  the  Hesperides.  And  from  the 
maidens  in  that  garden  I  learned  the  secret  dwelling- 
place  of  the  gorgon  Medusa,  the  very  sight  of  whose  face 
turns  all  men  to  stone.  Her,  at  the  bidding  of  Minerva, 
I  slew,  using  the  shield  as  a  mirror  and  looking  not  on 
the  gorgon's  face  as  I  shore  off  her  viper-crowned  head. 
Seven  years  have  these  adventures  filled;  very  far  have 
I  traveled  and  many  perils  known.  And  shall  I  now 
turn  back  from  a  beast  of  the  sea  ?  " 

And  he  laughed  again,  and  his  laughter  rang  so  joy 
ously  through  the  morning  air  that  some  comfort  stole 
even  into  the  sad  heart  of  Andromeda;  but  still  she  be 
sought  him  to  go. 

"  Many  hath  the  sea-beast  slain,"  she  pleaded ;  "  and 
why  should  he  slay  thee?  Shall  two  perish  instead  of 
one?  Strong-limbed  art  thou  and  brave;  but  what  mor 
tal  shall  stand  against  that  strength?  Never  have  I 
known  fairer  or  gentler  man  than  thou,  and  why  should'st 
thou  die?  Seven  years  hath  thy  mother  awaited  thy 
homecoming,  and  shall  her  eyes  see  thee  nevermore  ?  " 

And  when  she  had  said  this,  Andromeda  hid  her  face 
in  her  hair,  sobbing  very  bitterly  as  she  added :  "  Surely 
some  maiden  longeth  for  thee  afar ;  and  shall  she  go  long 
ing  to  her  grave  ?  " 

But  ere  Perseus  could  answer  there  came  a  roar  from 
the  sea,  and  looking  down  they  saw  that  the  monster  was 
at  hand.  His  great  snout,  pouring  forth  fountains  of 


318  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

sea-water,  lay  already  on  the  rocks,  his  vast  scaly  body, 
shells  clinging  to  its  scales  and  seaweeds  dripping  down 
its  sides,  rolled  like  some  water-logged  hulk;  his  tail, 
curling,  coil  upon  coil,  to  the  horizon,  lashed  the  waters 
till  they  were  white  with  foam,  and  the  sea-birds 
screamed  as  before  him  the  fishes  fled  leaping. 

Then  Perseus,  pausing  not  an  instant,  drew  forth  from 
under  his  goat-skin  the  fatal  head  of  Medusa,  the  sight 
of  which  is  death,  and  gripping  it  by  its  viper  locks,  he 
swooped  like  a  hawk  upon  the  monster  as  it  rose  to 
clamber  up  the  beach.  And  the  monster's  great  eyes 
rolled  upward,  blinking  and  wicked;  but  when  they  saw 
the  Medusa  they  became  fixed  in  a  ghastly  stare.  And 
a  great  spasm  ran  through  the  sea-beast  from  snout  to 
tail — a  shiver,  and  then  no  motion  or  breath  or  sign  of 
life,  for  that  which  had  been  a  monster  was  now  noth 
ing  but  a  long  black  rock. 

Then  Perseus  went  back  to  Andromeda  and  showed 
her  that  her  enemy  was  indeed  dead,  and  Andromeda, 
after  all  her  sorrows,  was  now  the  happiest  maiden  in  the 
land.  And  all  the  people,  hearing  what  had  happened, 
came  down  to  the  shore  with  laughter  and  dancing  and 
singing,  and  carried  Andromeda  and  Perseus  to  the  pal 
ace  of  the  king  and  queen,  who  sat  sorrowing  for  their 
daughter,  deeming  her  already  dead.  And  they,  when 
they  heard  the  glad  tidings,  rose  up  and  embraced  their 
daughter  who  had  come  back  to  them,  as  it  were,  from 
the  grave,  and  gave  her  to  Perseus  to  wife,  begging  him 
to  stay  with  them  for  a  while  before  he  carried  home 
his  bride. 

So  Perseus  stayed  with  Cepheus  and  Cassiopeia  and 
their  dark-haired  ^Ethiopians  for  the  space  of  a  year, 
teaching  them  many  things;  and  after  that  he  built  him- 


Perseus  and  Andromeda  319 

self  a  ship  of  cedar-wood,  and  in  it  he  sailed  with 
Andromeda  to  Seriphos  among  the  Isles  of  Greece,  where 
his  mother  had  waited  for  him  seven  years.  And  after 
a  little  while  Perseus  became  King  of  Argos  in  the  place 
of  his  grandfather  Acrisius.  Long  and  glorious  was  his 
reign,  and  fair  Andromeda  bore  him  four  sons  and  three 
daughters.  And  when  after  many  days  Perseus  died, 
the  gods  took  him  up  into  the  sky.  Who  has  not  seen 
on  a  starlight  night  Cassiopoeia  seated  on  her  golden 
throne?  There,  too,  is  Perseus,  still  holding  the 
Medusa's  head,  and  beside  him  is  Andromeda,  still 
stretching  out  her  starry  arms  to  embrace  her  enstarred 
deliverer. 


MELEAGER  AND  ATALANTA 

BY   H.    P.    MASKELL 

WHEN  Meleager,  son  of  CEneus,  King  of  Calydon, 
was  born,  his  mother  Althaea  dreamed  that  she 
had  brought  forth  a  burning  brand.  The  three  Fates 
were  present  at  the  moment  of  his  birth,  and  foretold 
his  future  greatness.  Clotho  promised  that  he  should 
have  bravery  and  courage,  Lachesis  uncommon  strength, 
and  Atropos  that  he  should  live  as  long  as  the  fire-brand 
on  the  hearth  remained  whole  and  unburnt.  Althaea  no 
sooner  heard  this  than  she  snatched  the  brand  from  the 
fire  and  quenched  it  with  water.  Ever  after  she  kept 
the  brand  in  a  safe  place  with  jealous  care,  knowing  that 
on  this  depended  the  life  of  her  dear  son. 

Grown  to  manhood,  Meleager  soon  became  famous  for 
his  knightly  prowess.  He  sailed  with  Jason  in  search 
of  the  Golden  Fleece,  and  when  rebellious  tribes  made 
war  against  his  father,  he  fought  against  their  army  and 
scattered  it. 

A  year  came,  long  after  famous  as  the  harvest  year. 
Never  within  the  memory  of  man  had  there  been  such 
plenteous  crops  in  the  land  of  Calydon,  and  CEneus  the 
king  made  grateful  offerings  of  first-fruits  to  the  gods : 
corn  to  Ceres,  wine  to  Bacchus,  and  olive  oil  to  Mi 
nerva.  All  the  gods  received  their  tribute  except  Diana. 
Diana  was  forgotten,  and  the  goddess  was  filled  with 
jealousy.  She  resented  the  insult  to  her  altars,  and  in 
revenge  for  the  neglect  sent  a  wild  boar  to  ravage  the 

320 


Meleager  and  Atalanta  321 

kingdom.  This  boar  was  huge  as  a  full-grown  ox,  his 
eyes  were  flaming  and  bloodshot,  and  the  bristles  stood 
up  on  his  neck  and  flanks  like  long  spikes.  It  was  ter 
rible  to  see  his  foaming  jaws  and  large  tusks — like  an 
elephant's;  when  he  roared  his  breath  seemed  to  burn 
up  the  very  herbage.  Wherever  he  went  he  destroyed 
the  farmer's  hopes,  trampling  down  the  young  shoots, 
devouring  the  corn  in  the  ear,  breaking  the  vines,  and 
stripping  the  olive  trees.  Neither  dogs  nor  shepherds 
could  protect  the  sheep  from  being  gored  by  his  cruel 
tusks.  The  country  folk  had  to  fly  for  their  lives  into 
the  walled  cities. 

So  Meleager  invited  a  choice  band  of  heroes  to  join 
him  and  help  to  destroy  the  monster.  Nearly  all  those 
who  had  joined  in  the  quest  for  the  Golden  Fleece  came 
and  brought  others  with  them.  But  the  foremost  in 
Meleager's  eyes  was  the  fair  huntress  Atalanta,  daugh 
ter  of  lasius.  Her  robe  flowed  loose  to  the  knee,  held 
up  over  ner  left  shoulder  by  one  golden  brooch,  and  her 
hair  was  gathered  into  a  single  knot.  At  her  side  hung 
an  ivory  quiver.  It  had  been  hard  to  tell  whether  she 
were  youth  or  maid,  so  strong  and  stalwart  were  her 
limbs  and  so  smooth  her  face.  Meleager  saw  her,  and 
loved  her  at  first  sight.  "  Here,"  he  cried,  "  is  the  one 
maid  for  me ! "  But  this  was  no  time  or  place  for  love- 
making.  The  mighty  hunt  was  about  to  begin. 

The  monster  had  been  tracked  to  a  dense  jungle,  and 
the  heroes  got  ready  their  nets  and  slipped  the  dogs.  At 
length  the  pack  gave  tongue,  and  the  hunters  raised  a 
shout  as  the  boar  came  crashing  through  the  wood,  scat 
tering  the  dogs  right  and  left,  some  barking,  some  bleed 
ing  from  ugly  wounds.  Echion's  spear  only  grazed  a 
maple  tree.  Jason  was  next  to  throw  his  swift  lance,  but 


322  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

it  overshot  the  mark.  The  aim  of  Alastus  was  more 
true,  but  the  iron  head  snapped  off  as  it  hit  one  of  the 
mighty  tusks,  and  the  shaft  failed  to  wound  the  brute. 

Like  a  stone  from  a  catapult  the  furious  boar  rushed 
madly  on  among  the  youths;  lightnings  flashed  from  his 
eyes,  and  his  breath  was  like  a  furnace;  two  of  the 
huntsmen  were  laid  low,  and  a  third  received  a  deadly 
wound;  Nestor  saved  his  life  by  catching  in  the  nick  of 
time  the  branch  of  an  oak  tree.  Having  whetted  his  tusks 
on  the  trunk  the  monster  advanced  once  more,  and  gored 
another  hero  in  the  thigh.  Castor  and  Pollux,  on  their 
white  horses,  rushed  with  lances  poised  to  despatch  him  ; 
they  were  too  late,  for  the  boar  had  found  safe  cover 
in  the  jungle,  where  neither  horse  nor  weapon  could  reach 
him. 

Telamon,  in  his  hot  pursuit,  was  tripped  up  by  a  root. 
While  Pelus  was  helping  him  to  rise,  Atalanta  fitted  an 
arrow  to  her  bow  and  let  fly.  Diana,  who  loved  the 
maiden,  guided  her  aim.  The  shaft  grazed  the  ear  of 
the  beast,  leaving  the  bristles  streaked  with  red;  and 
Meleager  was  just  as  pleased  as  she  herself  at  her  suc 
cess  in  drawing  the  first  blood.  Pointing  it  out  to  his 
companions,  he  exclaimed,  "  The  maid  is  peerless  in 
archery  as  in  beauty !  She  puts  us  men  to  shame !  " 

Stung  to  action  by  the  taunt  the  heroes  bestirred  them 
selves,  and  shouted  to  encourage  each  other,  but  their 
very  number  confused  their  aim.  Ancseus,  swinging  his 
battle-ax,  rushed  madly  to  his  fate,  crying,  "  Make  way 
for  me,  and  I  will  show  you  how  much  better  a  man's 
weapon  is  than  a  girl's  arrow.  Though  he  bear  a  charmed 
life,  my  right  hand  shall  finish  the  brute !  "  As  he  stood 
boasting  the  boar  seized  him  and  gored  him  through  and 
through  and  through,  so  that  the  earth  around  was  soaked 


Meleager  and  Atalanta  323 

with  his  red  life-blood.  Theseus  stayed  his  dear  friend, 
Pirithoiis,  son  of  Ixion,  who  was  making  straight  for  the 
enemy  just  as  rashly.  Warning  him  that  it  was  better 
to  be  valiant  at  a  distance,  he  hurled  his  heavy  lance  of 
cornel-wood  pointed  with  brass.  It  was  well  poised,  but 
caught  in  a  beech  tree.  Jason,  too,  hurled  his  javelin 
again,  but  by  an  ill-chance  struck  an  innocent  hound  and 
pinned  him  to  the  earth. 

Meleager's  turn  had  now  come,  and  he  used  his  oppor 
tunity  to  good  effect.  Of  two  spears  the  first  only  grazed 
the  boar's  flank,  the  second  transfixed  the  beast  in  the 
middle  of  the  back.  While  it  was  writhing  in  agony, 
twisting  about,  covered  with  foam  and  blood,  the  con 
queror  lost  no  time.  In  a  trice  he  had  buried  his  gleam 
ing  blade  behind  the  shoulder.  His  comrades  crowded 
around  him  with  shouts  of  joy.  They  marveled  at  the 
huge  size  of  the  boar  as  the  carcass  lay  at  full  length, 
scarcely  believing  it  safe  even  yet  to  touch,  but  each 
dipped  his  weapon  in  the  blood.  Meleager  himself,  plac 
ing  his  foot  on  the  monster's  head,  exclaimed,  "  Receive, 
Arcadian  nymph,  the  spoil  that  is  thy  right,  for  thou 
didst  draw  first  blood !  Only  let  me  share  thy  glory !  " 
So  saying,  he  laid  at  her  feet  the  skin,  thick  with 
stiffened  bristles,  and  the  head  and  monstrous  tusks.  The 
maiden  was  graciously  pleased  to  accept  the  offering,  and 
the  smile  that  she  bestowed  on  the  giver  more  than  re 
paid  him  for  all  his  pains  and  perils. 

But  his  comrades  were  jealous  of  the  favor  bestowed 
on  the  young  hunter.  They  murmured  amongst  them 
selves,  and  said,  "  Who  is  this  upstart  youth  who,  with 
out  asking  our  leave,  bestows  on  his  lady-love  the  spoils 
that  belong  to  us  all  ?  "  And  they  snatched  away  the 
trophy. 


324  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

This  was  more  than  the  warlike  prince  could  bear. 
Mad  with  anger  and  indignation,  he  plunged  his  sword 
into  the  breast  of  his  uncle  Plexippus  (who  had  been 
the  moving  spirit  in  the  protest),  crying,  "This  will 
teach  thee  not  to  snatch  away  another's  honors."  And 
before  long  his  blade  was  reeking  with  the  blood  of 
Toxeus,  who  seemed  half  disposed  to  avenge  his 
brother's  death. 

Meanwhile,  Queen  Althaea  had  heard  of  her  son's  vic 
tory  over  the  monster,  and  was  on  her  way  to  the  temples 
of  the  gods  with  thankofferings,  when  she  beheld  the 
dead  bodies  of  her  brothers  being  borne  from  the  field. 
All  her  joy  was  turned  to  sorrow ;  with  a  shriek  of  horror 
she  hastened  back  home  to  put  on  mourning.  But  when 
she  learnt  who  was  the  author  of  their  death,  grief  van 
ished  and  gave  place  to  a  thirst  for  vengeance. 

She  bethought  herself  of  the  brand  which  the  Fates 
had  given  her,  and  which  she  had  kept  so  carefully, 
knowing  that  her  son's  life  depended  on  it.  Now  this 
fatal  wood  was  to  be  the  means  of  punishing  the  son  for 
the  murder  of  her  brothers. 

At  her  bidding  a  fire  was  kindled.  Holding  the  fatal 
billet  in  her  ruthless  hand,  she  moaned,  "  Ye  Fates,  I 
both  avenge  and  commit  a  crime.  With  death  must  death 
be  repaid.  He  deserves  to  die,  and  yet  the  thought  of  his 
death  appalls  me.  Oh,  that  thou  hadst  been  burnt,  un 
natural  son,  when  an  infant,  in  that  first  fire !  "  So  say 
ing,  with  trembling  hands,  she  threw  the  fatal  brand  into 
the  midst  of  the  fire.  And  the  brand,  as  it  was  caught 
by  the  flames,  seemed  to  utter  a  dying  groan. 

Meleager,  far  away,  was  seized  with  sudden  pains.  He 
felt  his  entrails  scorched  by  secret  fires ;  bravely  he  bore 
the  torture.  His  one  regret  was  that  he  was  doomed 


Meleager  and  Atalanta  325 

to  die  an  inglorious  death,  and  he  envied  the  fate  of 
Ancaeus.  With  his  last  breath  he  invoked  a  blessing  on 
his  aged  father,  his  brother,  and  dear  sisters — aye,  and 
on  his  cruel  mother.  As  the  blaze  kindled  by  Althaea 
rose  and  fell,  so  his  torments  waxed  and  waned.  Both 
lives  flickered  out,  and  his  spirit  vanished  into  the 
light  air. 

In  Calydon,  young  and  old,  noble  and  serf,  were  all 
lamenting.  The  matrons  tore  their  hair  as  they  bewailed 
the  untimely  end  of  their  brave  young  prince.  Aged 
CEneus  abased  himself  on  the  ground,  with  dust  on  his 
white  locks  and  wrinkled  brow,  bemoaning  that  he  had 
lived  to  see  that  day.  To  the  anguished  mother,  too, 
came  tardy  repentance.  Natural  affection  had  now  gained 
the  mastery  over  anger  and  revenge.  "  Wretch  that  I 
am ! "  she  cried.  "  To  the  loss  of  my  dear  brothers,  by 
my  own  ruthless  deed  I  have  added  the  loss  of  my 
dearer  son."  Horrified  at  her  act,  she  could  no  longer 
bear  to  see  the  sun,  and  with  a  sword  put  an  end  to  her 
misery  and  shame. 


THE  STORY  OF  DJEDALUS  AND  ICARUS 

BY    M.    M.    BIRD 

ATHENS  is  the  eye  of  Greece,  the  mother  of  science 
and  the  arts,  and  of  all  her  world-famed  artists 
none  is  more  famous  than  Daedalus,  the  sculptor,  the 
architect,  the  first  of  air-men.  It  was  he  who  taught 
men  to  carve  in  wood  the  human  form  divine,  as  the 
images  prove  that  the  Greeks  named  after  him  dcedala. 
It  was  he  who  planned  for  Minos  the  labyrinth  of  which 
you  have  read  elsewhere;  and  it  was  he  who  first  made 
wings  that  men  might  fly  like  birds.  Of  this,  his  best 
and  greatest  invention,  how  he  came  to  contrive  it,  and 
how  disastrously  it  ended,  you  shall  now  hear. 

When  Theseus  had  slain  the  Minotaur,  King  Minos 
was  exceedingly  wrath  with  his  architect  for  betraying 
the  secret  of  the  labyrinth — a  secret  that  none  but  the 
king  and  its  contriver  knew.  So  Daedalus,  and  with  him 
his  young  son  Icarus,  was  cast  into  prison,  and  there 
they  languished  long.  But  Pasiphae  the  queen,  who 
loved  not  her  sovereign  lord  and  loved  her  favorite 
artist,  contrived  their  escape  and  hid  them  in  a  sea- 
cave.  Still  the  cave  was  little  better  than  a  prison.  It 
was  dark  and  dank,  and  they  dared  only  venture  out  at 
night  for  fear  their  hiding-place  should  be  discovered. 

But  though  the  artist's  hands  were  idle,  his  busy  brain 
was  ever  plotting  and  scheming.  One  day,  as  he  sat 
at  the  cave's  mouth  watching  the  seagulls  as  they  floated 
past  on  poised  wings  or  mounted  from  the  waves  and 

326 


The  Story  of  Daedalus  and  Icarus          327 

with  a  stroke  of  their  pinions  were  high  in  air,  there 
flashed  upon  his  brain  the  splendor  of  a  sudden  thought 
— With  the  wings  of  a  bird  I  too  could  fly! 

At  once  the  father  and  the  son  set  to  work  to  make 
themselves  wings.  The  osprey  and  the  sea-eagle,  whose 
aeries  were  on  the  rocky  heights,  the  father  trapped  with 
cunning  snares,  and  from  the  combs  of  the  wild  bees  on 
the  hillside  the  son  collected  wax.  So  with  infinite  pains, 
and  after  endless  failures,  at  last  a  pair  of  pinions  were 
made.  The  upper  row  of  quills  were  bound  together  by 
strong  threads  of  twine  on  a  framework  of  bone,  and  to 
them  the  bottom  feathers  were  joined  by  beeswax.  Like 
all  great  inventors,  Daedalus  had  conquered  Nature  by 
imitating  her. 

At  first  young  Icarus  had  watched  his  father  with  eager 
curiosity,  but  like  a  boy,  he  had  soon  grown  impatient, 
and,  as  Daedalus  still  persevered,  he  looked  upon  him  as 
a  harmless  lunatic.  What,  then,  were  his  delight 
and  surprise  when,  one  morning  as  he  awoke,  he  be 
held  his  father  floating  in  mid-air  before  the  cave's 
mouth. 

"  Father,"  he  cried,  embracing  him  as  he  alighted, 
"  what  rapture !  Let  me  too  try  if  I  can  fly.  Make  me 
a  pair  of  wings,  and  together  we  will  escape  from  this 
island  prison." 

"  My  boy,"  the  grave  sire  replied,  "  thou  shalt  surely 
try,  but  flight  is  no  easy  matter,  and  thou  must  first  learn 
thy  lesson.  Mark  well  my  words.  Steer  always  a  mid 
dle  flight;  there  only  safety  lies.  If  you  fly  low  the  sea 
spray  will  wet  your  flagging  feathers,  if  high  the  sun 
will  melt  the  wax.  Keep  me  in  sight,  and  swerve  not  to 
the  north  or  south." 

Icarus  promised  to  obey,  but  so  fired  was  he  with  the 


328  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

thought  of  flying  that  he  listened  with  half  an  ear,  and 
soon  forgot  his  father's  directions. 

The  second  pair  of  wings  were  made  and  strapped  with 
anxious  care  to  the  son's  shoulder-blades.  And,  as  the 
parent  birds  eye  their  callow  nestlings  when  they  essay 
their  first  flight,  so  Daedalus,  as  he  mounted  upwards,  oft 
looked  back  on  the  boy  and  again  repeated  his  warnings. 

The  people  were  stirring  in  the  towns,  the  countrymen 
were  out  in  the  fields  after  their  beasts,  and  all  the  folk 
stayed  in  their  morning  tasks  to  gaze  at  these  two  strange 
creatures  that  floated  overhead.  "  It  is  Daedalus  and  his 
son,"  they  cried.  "  They  have  become  gods." 

Minos  in  his  palace  was  told  of  the  strange  spectacle. 
From  his  terrace  he  watched  in  impotent  wrath  the  two 
dark  specks  far  out  to  sea,  that  thus  escaped  him. 

At  first  Icarus  kept  close  to  his  father,  but  soon  he 
had  lost  all  sense  of  danger,  and  with  the  reckless  wan 
tonness  of  youth,  determined  to  go  his  own  way.  He 
reveled  in  the  strong  free  strokes  of  his  great  wings; 
he  mounted  ever  higher  and  higher,  till  the  sea  was  spread 
below  him  like  a  blue  plain,  and  the  sandy  islands  showed 
like  cloths  of  gold. 

Daedalus  was  winging  his  careful  way  lower  down,  be 
low  the  scattered  clouds,  close  above  the  golden  islets, 
and  shouted  to  his  son  to  return.  But  Icarus,  drunk  with 
the  delights  of  flight,  mounted  ever  higher,  up  into  the 
fierce  rays  of  Phoebus,  the  Sun-god,  who  held  out  burn 
ing  arms  to  the  adventurous  youth,  beckoning  him  to  race 
his  fiery  car  across  the  heavens. 

The  horrified  father,  floating  on  outspread  wings  over 
the  y£gean  Sea,  looked  up  to  see  his  boy  like  a  tiny 
speck  in  the  sun's  rays.  He  knew  the  fierce  heat  of  those 
rays;  he  knew  that  the  wings  were  only  fastened  on  by 


The  Story  of  Daedalus  and  Icarus          329 

wax  that  could  not  hold  against  that  scorching  heat.  And 
lo!  as  he  looked,  the  speck  grew  larger  and  larger,  and 
headlong  down  the  sky  he  beheld  Icarus  falling,  falling, 
his  limp  wings  sagging  from  his  shoulders,  his  frantic 
arms  struggling  to  spread  them  and  stay  his  fall.  The 
drooping  wings  could  not  uphold  him;  he  came  whirling 
down  the  hissing  air,  and  his  agonized  father  watched 
his  helpless  boy  fall  into  the  blue  waves  beneath.  For 
a  moment  he  saw  him  struggle  feebly,  and  then,  like  a 
bubble,  he  sank,  and  the  unruffled  waters  lay  calm  and 
smiling  as  before. 

By  the  sad  sea  shore  of  the  ^Egean,  where  he  landed 
after  that  disastrous  flight,  Dsedalus  raised  a  cenotaph 
to  his  lost  son,  and  thereon  he  laid  the  wings,  once  the 
artist's  pride,  and  now  the  father's  bane.  "  Icarus,  O 
my  Icarus !  "  he  cried ;  and  still  those  waters  echo  the 
name  of  Icarus. 


SCYLLA,  THE  DAUGHTER  OF  NISUS 

BY    MRS.    GUY   E.    LLOYD 

IN  Crete,  the  greatest  and  most  powerful  of  the  isles 
of  Greece  and  the  cradle  of  Jupiter,  there  once  stood 
a  splendid  palace  where  lived  the  wealthy  King  Minos. 
To  this  palace  came  as  guests  one  day  Nisus,  King  of 
Megara,  and  his  fair  daughter  Scylla;  and  there  they 
abode  many  days,  with  every  day  fresh  delights  sought 
out  by  King  Minos  to  give  them  pleasure.  And  Scylla, 
like  a  fond  and  foolish  maiden,  was  dazzled  by  the  pomp 
and  by  the  flattery  of  King  Minos,  and  he  seemed  to  her 
the  greatest  and  wisest  of  living  men,  and  she  would  fain 
have  tarried  there  forever,  hearkening  to  his  words  and 
admiring  all  his  riches. 

But  King  Nisus  would  not  longer  stay,  and  they  de 
parted,  bearing  with  them  rich  gifts  from  the  generous 
king,  and  returned  to  their  own  castle  at  Megara.  Very 
small  and  mean  did  her  home  seem  to  Scylla  now,  and 
often  would  she  climb  to  the  top  of  a  turret  that  looked 
over  the  sea,  and  thence  she  would  gaze  and  gaze  towards 
the  south,  and  her  thoughts  would  fly  back  to  the  fair 
island  of  Crete  with  its  cities  and  its  palaces,  and  its 
strong  and  noble  king,  till  she  envied  the  birds  that 
skimmed  past  her  turret  on  swift,  light  wings.  They 
could  fly  to  Crete  whenever  they  would,  and  settle  on 
the  palace  eaves;  but  the  princess  must  sit  still  in  her 
high  turret,  and  hide  even  her  longing  away  within  her 
heart. 

330 


Scylla,  the  Daughter  of  Nisus  331 

The  days  passed  by,  and  Nisus  went  no  more  to  Crete, 
but  Androgeos,  son  of  King  Minos,  came  to  Megara  and 
abode  there  some  little  space,  and  the  king  and  the 
princess  welcomed  him  kindly  for  his  father's  sake. 
After  his  visit  Androgeos  would  not  sail  back  straight 
to  his  father's  halls ;  he  was  minded  first  to  see  the  great 
city  of  Athens,  the  eye  of  Greece.  King  Nisus  warned 
him  that  the  road  across  the  mountains  was  difficult  and 
dangerous,  and  that  many  robbers  hid  among  those  hills  ; 
but  the  prince  would  not  be  warned.  He  went  his  way, 
and  the  next  news  of  him  that  came  was  that  he  had 
been  set  upon  by  bandits  and  murdered. 

"  He  should  have  hearkened  to  the  counsel  of  older 
and  wiser  men,"  said  King  Nisus.  "  I  grieve  for  the 
youth,  but  he  brought  it  on  himself." 

But  when  Minos  the  king  heard  that  his  son  Androgeos 
was  dead,  he  was  stricken  with  a  great  grief,  and  he  sent 
to  King  Nisus  demanding  blood-money,  since  the  prince 
was  slain  in  the  lands  of  the  Megarians.  But  Nisus  re 
fused  to  pay. 

"  It  was  no  fault  of  mine/'  he  said ;  "  and  I  shall  make 
no  reparation  for  the  death  of  one  whose  blood  is  on 
his  own  head." 

Then  was  King  Minos  wroth,  and  threatened  to  make 
good  in  person  his  rightful  claim. 

So  it  chanced  on  a  day  when  the  Princess  Scylla  looked 
forth  from  her  turret  over  the  sea,  as  her  custom  was, 
she  saw  great  ships,  with  bellying  white  sails,  drawing 
near  from  the  south ;  and  as  they  rose  upon  the  heaving 
billows,  the  sunbeams  glinted  back  from  many  a  shield 
and  spear,  for  they  carried  the  mailed  warriors  of  King 
Minos  coming  to  wrest  from  King  Nisus  blood-money 
for  the  death  of  Androgeos,  son  to  King  Minos,  who 


332  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

had  been  slain  by  robbers  on  the  lands  of  King 
Nisus. 

Then  stepped  forth  from  one  of  the  ships  the  herald 
of  King  Minos,  and  he  came  into  the  palace  of  Megara 
and  proclaimed  his  master's  will  to  all  that  stood  there. 

But  Nisus  the  king  frowned  upon  the  herald.  "  I  will 
pay  no  blood-money,"  he  said.  "  Go  your  ways  to  your 
master  and  tell  him  so.  Better  were  it  for  him  to  be 
satisfied  with  this  answer  of  mine  and  to  turn  and  hie 
him  home.  Little  use  is  it  for  mortal  men  to  strive 
against  those  who  are  protected  by  the  undying  gods.  I 
care  not  for  the  wrath  of  King  Minos,  and  the  spears  of 
his  warriors  have  no  more  power  to  hurt  my  people  than 
the  bulrushes  that  children  gather  in  the  fields  and  break 
in  mimic  warfare  with  each  other." 

"  Thou  speakest  in  riddles,  King  Nisus,"  replied  the 
herald ;  "  but  my  master  is  of  kin  to  the  immortals,  and 
it  cannot  be  that  they  will  let  him  quail  before  a  petty 
king  like  thee." 

So  the  herald  turned  and  went  back  to  his  ships ;  and 
when  King  Minos  heard  that  King  Nisus  refused  to  pay 
the  blood-money,  he  made  him  ready  for  battle. 

Then  the  men  of  Crete  fought  stoutly  against  the  men 
of  Megara,  and  day  after  day  the  tide  of  battle  surged 
around  the  walls  of  the  town.  But  strive  as  they  might 
the  men  of  Crete  won  no  inch  of  ground,  but  the  men 
of  Megara  drove  their  foes  before  them  like  sheep. 

At  length  the  warriors  of  King  Minos  began  to  mur 
mur  among  themselves  and  to  repeat  the  words  that  King 
Nisus  had  spoken  to  the  herald. 

"  If  the  city  of  Megara  is  indeed  defended  by  the 
deathless  gods,"  said  they,  "  what  avails  it  to  fight  and 
to  strive?" 


Scylla,  the  Daughter  of  Nisus  333 

And  Minos  knew  that  his  men  murmured,  and  his 
heart  was  sore  within  him. 

The  Princess  Scylla  looked  forth  one  day  upon  the  host 
that  was  besieging  the  city  of  her  home,  and  she  chanced 
to  see  King  Minos  pass  quite  close  to  her  casement.  So 
near  was  he  that  she  could  see  his  face  quite  plainly. 
Pale  and  sorrowful  he  looked  with  grief  at  the  death 
of  his  son  and  disappointment  at  the  failure  of  his  at 
tack.  He  stood  for  a  moment  looking  despairingly  at 
the  strong  walls  of  his  enemy's  city,  seeking  and  seeking 
as  often  before,  and  ever  in  vain,  to  find  some  way  for 
his  warriors  to  win  passage  into  the  town.  At  length 
he  passed  on  his  way,  sad  and  dejected,  for  he  saw  no 
way  at  all  of  gaining  the  mastery  in  the  strife. 

But  the  heart  of  the  princess  beat  fast  with  love  and 
sorrow.  "  Alas  !  "  she  thought  to  herself,  "  King  Minos 
is  fighting  a  hopeless  battle,  for  none  may  gain  any  ad 
vantage  over  my  father,  so  long  as  he  keeps  safe  the  pur 
ple  lock  of  hair  that  the  gods  have  placed  upon  his  head 
as  a  spell  against  every  evil.  Vain  is  the  strength  of 
the  warriors  of  Crete,  vain  the  wisdom  of  their  king. 
The  bright  lock  of  King  Nisus  will  hold  him  and  his 
people  safe  through  every  attack." 

The  princess  covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  and 
sat  for  a  little  space  silent  and  miserable.  Then  on  a 
sudden  she  raised  her  head  and  a  new  light  was  in  her 
eyes.  She  was  the  only  child  of  King  Nisus,  and  when 
he  died  the  city  and  the  palace  would  be  hers.  The  only 
man  whom  she  had  ever  wished  to  wed  was  the  stately 
King  Minos.  If  he  would  but  wed  her  all  would  be 
well;  he  should  reign,  as  her  husband,  over  the  city 
against  which  he  was  leading  his  warriors  in  vain.  And 
surely  King  Minos  would  willingly  wed  her  as  a  reward 


334  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

if  she  put  within  his  power  the  victory  he  had  striven 
in  vain  to  wrest  for  himself  from  the  men  of  Megara. 

There  was  feasting  that  night  in  the  hall  of  King  Nisus, 
and  the  princess  herself  poured  out  her  father's  wine, 
and  he  was  well  pleased  that  she  should  wait  upon  him, 
for  of  late  she  had  moped  in  her  chamber  and  refused 
to  share  his  feasts.  But  when  the  banquet  was  over  a 
strange  drowsiness  weighed  down  the  eyelids  of  King 
Nisus,  for  Scylla  had  mingled  the  juice  of  poppy  and 
mandragora  with  the  wine.  Then  the  king  sought  his 
bed  and  lay  there  as  one  in  a  swoon,  and  his  guards, 
who  had  drunk  of  the  poppied  wine,  slept  also  as  they 
kept  watch  before  the  door  of  Nisus.  And  when  all  was 
dark  and  still  the  princess  Scylla  stole  softly  to  her  fa 
ther's  chamber,  holding  a  pair  of  shears  in  her  hand. 

She  drew  back  the  heavy  purple  curtain  that  the  moon 
light  might  stream  into  the  room,  and  then,  kneeling 
beside  the  couch,  she  sought  the  bright  lock  on  which 
depended  the  fortune  of  Megara,  and  with  her  shears  she 
shore  it  off.  Then,  drawing  the  curtain  close  again  that 
the  moonlight  might  not  awake  the  king,  she  hid  the 
lock  safely  in  the  corner  of  her  veil,  and  glided  silently 
from  the  room. 

The  moon  was  making  a  glittering  path  across  the 
sea  that  murmured  softly  on  the  rocks,  and  all  was  still 
and  dark  within  the  city,  when  the  watchman  of  the 
Cretan  host  saw  a  woman  drawing  near.  Her  bent  head 
was  shrouded  in  a  dark  veil,  so  that  he  could  see  naught 
of  her  face  as  she  came,  but  she  called  to  him  in  his  own 
tongue,  praying  to  be  led  forthwith  to  King  Minos. 

"  Nay,  maiden,  whosoever  thou  may'st  be,"  replied  the 
man.  "  The  king  is  asleep  in  his  tent  at  this  hour,  and 
none  may  have  speech  with  him." 


Scylla,  the  Daughter  of  Nisus  335 

"  I  will  hold  thee  blameless,  friend,"  said  the  princess ; 
and  the  man  was  awed  by  her  imperial  speech  and  man 
ner,  and  turning  he  led  her  to  the  tent  of  King  Minos, 
passed  within  the  curtains,  roused  the  king,  and  brought 
him  forth  into  the  moonlight. 

"  Who  art  thou  who  would'st  speak  with  me  ?  "  asked 
the  king,  glancing  keenly  at  the  veiled  woman. 

"  I  must  speak  with  thee  alone,"  she  whispered,  for 
she  was  now  overcome  with  shame,  and  her  tongue  clave 
to  the  roof  of  her  mouth. 

But  the  king  recognized  at  once  the  voice,  and  bidding 
the  sentinel  go  back  to  his  post,  he  asked  in  amazement : 
"  What  would'st  thou  with  me,  Princess  Scylla  ?  " 

Then  the  maiden  flung  back  the  veil  from  her  head,  and 
taking  heart  of  courage,  looked  straight  into  the  eyes  of 
King  Minos.  "  In  the  days  that  are  gone,"  she  made 
answer,  "  kind  words  were  spoken  between  thee  and 
me,  O  King.  Remember  now  thy  past  affection,  and 
look  upon  me  gently,  for  through  great  peril  come  I  to 
win  happiness  for  both  our  peoples,  and  for  thee  and  me, 
if  thou  wilt  have  it  so." 

And  King  Minos  read  her  love  in  the  eyes  of  the  maiden, 
but  in  his  own  heart  was  naught  but  bitterness  for  the 
unatoned  death  of  his  son  and  for  his  many  days  of 
fruitless  warfare.  Nevertheless  he  spoke  gentle  words, 
for  he  hoped  that  the  love  of  Scylla  might  bring  him 
profit. 

Then  the  princess  took  from  her  bosom  her  father's 
magic  lock,  and  held  it  out  to  the  king.  "  Behold  the 
fortune  of  my  father  and  of  his  people,"  she  said.  "  This 
bright  lock  was  placed  on  my  father's  head  by  the  un 
dying  gods,  and  as  long  as  it  was  safe  no  evil  could  be 
fall  him  or  his  people ;  but  I  have  shorn  it  off  arid  brought 


336  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

it  to  thee,  for  peace  is  better  than  war,  love  is  stronger 
than  hate ;  and  surely  thou  wilt  look  kindly  upon  her  who 
plucks  victory  from  defeat,  and  holds  it  forth  for  thee 
and  thy  warriors  to  take." 

Then  King  Minos  took  the  lock,  and  he  smiled  upon 
Scylla  as  he  made  answer :  "  I  take  thy  gift,  fair  maiden ; 
when  the  battle  shall  be  ended  we  will  speak  of  the 
requital." 

So,  wrapping  her  veil  once  more  around  her  head, 
Scylla  passed  forth  from  the  tent  of  King  Minos,  and 
took  her  way,  not  back  to  the  towers  of  her  home,  but 
down  to  the  sea-shore.  Here  she  found  a  hidden  nook 
among  the  rocks  where  she  flung  herself  down,  for 
done  and  distracted  by  her  own  fierce  hopes  and 
fears. 

She  had  thought  to  be  very  happy  when  she  looked 
once  more  upon  the  face  of  King  Minos  and  heard  him 
speak  kindly  to  her;  but  there  was  no  joy  in  her  palpi 
tating  heart:  only  a  vague  dread  as  she  remembered  the 
smile  of  the  king  and  a  vague  hope  as  she  repeated  to 
herself  his  words  of  promise. 

Lulled  by  the  sound  of  the  lapping  waves  and  mur 
muring  over  and  over  to  herself,  "  When  the  battle  shall 
be  ended  we  will  speak  of  the  requital,"  the  wearied 
princess  sank  at  length  to  sleep. 

The  sky  above  her  head  flushed  crimson  with  the  rising 
of  the  sun ;  the  warriors  of  King  Minos  came  forth  from 
their  tents  and  set  themselves  in  battle  array.  All 
through  that  day  the  princess  slept  on,  while  the  men  of 
Megara  rushed  to  defend  their  crumbling  walls,  and  King 
Nisus,  roused  from  his  heavy  sleep,  discovered  his  loss 
and  flung  himself  into  the  front  of  the  battle,  knowing 
that  now  he  fought  in  vain,  since  the  magic  lock 


Scylla,  the  Daughter  of  Nisus  337 

was  gone  that  had  brought  victory  to  him  and  his 
people. 

Sore  amazed  were  the  men  of  Megara  to  find  that 
their  foes  were  driving  them  backwards.  At  first  they 
fought  desperately,  hoping  that  the  Cretans  were  gain 
ing  the  advantage  only  for  a  time,  but  presently  it  began 
to  be  whispered  through  the  ranks  that  the  favor  of  the 
immortals  had  deserted  Megara,  and  men  flung  down 
their  arms  and  fled  headlong. 

The  sky  was  reddened  again  by  the  sunset  when  Scylla 
was  roused  from  her  long  slumber  of  exhaustion  by  the 
tramp  of  armed  men  close  to  her  hiding-place.  Lifting 
herself  up,  she  peered  cautiously  between  the  rocks,  and 
saw  the  Cretan  warriors,  bearing  the  spoils  of  the  plun 
dered  city,  returning  to  their  ships.  For  King  Minos  was 
in  haste  to  journey  on  and  make  Athens  share  in  the 
punishment  of  Megara,  since  it  was  on  a  journey  from 
Megara  to  Athens  that  his  son  Androgeos  had  been  slain, 
and  both  the  cities  shared  in  the  guilt  of  the  slayer. 
Scylla  watched  the  hurrying  ranks,  at  first  not  under 
standing  what  they  did.  Then,  on  a  sudden,  she  saw  ap 
proaching  the  stately  form  of  King  Minos,  and  she  came 
forth  from  among  the  rocks,  and  waited,  hoping  he  might 
look  upon  her.  But  seeing  that  he  made  as  though  he 
would  pass  by,  the  princess  stood  in  his  path. 

Then  said  King  Minos  coldly :  "  What  wilt  thou  with 
me,  maiden?  " 

And  a  great  fear  caught  at  the  heart  of  Scylla,  and 
she  clasped  her  hands  to  her  bosom  as  though  she  were 
at  her  last  gasp.  Yet  with  a  supreme  effort  she  made 
her  last  appeal :  "  My  home  is  desolate,  my  father  slain. 
'Tis  I,  his  daughter,  who  gave  the  battle  to  thy  hands. 
I  come,  King  Minos,  to  claim  my  promised  guerdon." 


338  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

And  King  Minos  made  answer :  "  There  is  no  gift  in 
the  world  precious  enough  to  make  requital  to  a  maiden 
who  by  her  own  deed  has  slain  her  father  and  laid  her 
home  in  ruins  and  the  pride  of  her  people  in  the  dust. 
I  will  not  mock  thee,  princess,  by  striving  to  equal  thy 
gift." 

And  King  Minos  passed  on  his  way  to  his  ship;  and 
as  they  followed  him  his  warriors  gazed  with  horror  upon 
the  maiden  who  had  given  the  life  of  her  father  into 
the  hand  of  his  enemy;  for  all  men  knew  by  now  that 
the  safety  of  Nisus  and  his  city  had  depended  upon  the 
magic  lock,  and  that  his  daughter  had  shorn  it  from 
him  and  given  it  to  King  Minos. 

But  Scylla  stood  on  the  rocky  pathway  where  she  had 
hearkened  to  the  mocking  words  of  King  Minos,  and  the 
blue  heavens  seemed  black  above  her  head,  and  the  silver 
sea  black  beneath  her  feet,  and  nowhere  in  the  world  was 
there  for  her  any  help  or  comfort. 

The  troops  of  warriors  passed  her  by  and  embarked  in 
the  ships  that  waited  for  them  there  below  the  cliff.  The 
sunlight  faded  and  the  moon  came  out,  and  still  the 
stricken  maiden  leant  against  the  rock  where  Minos  had 
dashed  all  her  hopes  to  ruin. 

At  length  the  song  of  the  mariners  came  up  from  the 
sea,  telling  that  the  men  were  on  board  and  the  ships 
ready  to  sail,  and  with  a  cry  of  bitter  anguish  Scylla 
crept  to  the  top  of  the  rock  that  overlooked  the  sea.  She 
saw  the  ship  of  King  Minos  moving  slowly  from  the 
shore,  and  clasping  her  hands  above  her  head,  she  leapt 
from  the  tall  cliff. 

And  men  say  that  the  gods  had  pity  on  her,  and 
changed  her  into  a  sea-lark.  But  her  father  was  wrath 
with  her  even  in  death,  and  he  craved  of  the  infernal 


Scylla,  the  Daughter  of  Nisus  339 

powers  the  boon  of  vengeance.  Therefore  he  was  turned 
into  a  sea-eagle,  and  still  the  father,  with  hooked  hands 
and  ravenous  beak,  watches  from  his  mountain  walls  to 
swoop  upon  his  feathered  daughter,  who  flits  along  the 
shore  and  cowers  in  the  crannies  of  the  rocks. 


THE  STORY  OF  PYRAMUS  AND  THISBE 

BY    M.    M.    BIRD 

"The  most  lamentable  comedy  and  most  cruel  death  of  Pyra- 
mus  and  Thisby." — SHAKESPEARE. 

IN  Babylon  of  old,  where  walls  were  first  built  of 
bricks,  two  houses  had  been  set  so  close  together 
that  they  shared  one  roof.  Two  families  came  to  dwell 
in  them,  and  young  Pyramus  of  the  one  house  soon  made 
acquaintance  with  fair  Thisbe  of  the  other.  Their  friend 
ship  grew  and  ripened  into  love.  But  alas!  a  deathless 
feud  had  arisen  to  separate  the  two  families,  and  the 
unhappy  lovers  were  inexorably  divided. 

Still,  though  angry  parents  could  forbid  their  love 
and  could  prevent  them  meeting,  all  this  could  not  avail 
to  kill  their  love.  The  thwarted  pair  could  but  gaze 
upon  each  other,  could  only  look  and  sigh:  yet  that  was 
enough  to  feed  the  flame  of  love.  And  at  last  they  found 
a  way  to  reach  each  other's  ears,  as  lovers  will:  a  chink 
between  two  bricks  in  the  wall  that  divided  the  two 
houses — a  little  chink  where  the  cement  had  crumbled 
away,  so  small  it  had  never  been  noticed  and  filled  in. 
Through  this  friendly  chink  young  Pyramus  breathed  his 
vows,  and  fair  Thisbe  answered  him  with  tender  words. 
Their  eager  lips  pressed  the  unresponsive  brick,  their 
hands  that  longed  to  clasp  each  other  were  kept  apart 
by  the  hard,  unfeeling  wall.  Their  sighs  and  softly 
spoken  words  of  love  alone  could  pierce  the  barrier  that 
divided  them. 

340 


The  Story  of  Pyramus  and  Thisbe          341 

At  last  they  resolved  to  defy  the  cruel  parents  who 
thus  wronged  their  love;  to  steal  out  one  night  in  the 
concealing  darkness,  and  fly  together  despite  all  oppo 
sition. 

Outside  the  town,  beside  a  little  brook  and  shaded  by 
a  widespread  mulberry  tree,  stood  the  tomb  of  Ninus. 
Here  they  agreed  to  meet  at  nightfall. 

Impatiently  they  watched  the  sun  sink  slowly  down 
the  western  sky  and  bathe  in  the  western  sea.  Thisbe, 
with  caution,  unbarred  her  father's  door  and  stole  softly 
forth,  veiling  her  face  and  hasting  through  the  town  to 
the  spot  where  the  tomb  stood  on  the  open  plain. 

But  in  the  darkness  other  creatures  had  come  forth. 
A  lioness,  scouring  the  plain  in  search  of  prey,  had  slain 
an  ox.  Surfeited  with  flesh  and  all  besmeared  with 
blood,  it  came  swiftly  to  the  brook  to  slake  its  thirst.  By 
the  light  of  the  moon  Thisbe,  approaching  the  trysting- 
place,  saw  the  fearful  beast.  She  flew  trembling  across 
the  plain  to  the  neighboring  rocks  and  hid  within  a 
cave.  And  as  she  fled  her  floating  veil  dropped  from 
her  shoulders  and  was  left  upon  the  ground. 

When  the  queen  of  beasts  had  drunk  her  fill,  she  came 
bounding  back  across  the  plain.  She  found  the  veil,  and 
this  she  tore  and  mouthed  with  jaws  still  wet  with  the 
blood  of  the  slaughtered  ox.  And  then  went  on  her  way. 

Young  Pyramus,  who  could  not  elude  his  parents  so 
soon,  came  hastening  to  the  tryst.  By  the  moonlight  he 
noted  the  footprints  of  the  savage  beast  beside  the  brook, 
and  farther  on  his  anguished  eyes  beheld  his  loved 
Thisbe's  torn  and  blood-stained  veil.  Convinced  that  the 
beast  had  slain  his  love,  he  cried  in  his  agony  of  grief 
that  the  fault  was  his  in  that  he  had  not  been  first  at 
the  tryst  to  protect  her,  and  cursed  the  malevolence  of 


342  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

fate  that  had  caused  him  to  fix  the  spot  where  she  should 
meet  her  death.  He  kissed  the  veil  so  torn,  so  dear 
to  him.  And  then,  crying  that  Death  should  not  divide 
two  hearts  so  fond,  he  drew  his  sword  and  plunged  it 
into  his  breast.  The  life-blood  spurted  from  the  grievous 
wound  and  besprinkled  all  the  white  clusters  of  the 
mulberry. 

Cautiously  the  trembling  Thisbe  left  her  hiding-place 
among  the  rocks,  fearing  lest  delay  should  make  her  lover 
think  her  untrue,  and  neared  the  appointed  spot.  But 
though  the  tomb  and  the  brook  were  there  as  of  old, 
the  tree  she  could  not  recognize  with  its  new  burden  of 
crimson  clusters. 

As  she  gazed  in  doubt,  her  eyes  fell  on  a  form  that 
lay  stretched  upon  the  ground.  She  saw  her  lover 
bathed  in  his  blood. 

She  shrieked  and  tore  her  hair ;  she  raised  him,  clasped 
him,  bathed  with  her  tears  his  gaping  wound.  She  cried 
to  him  to  wake  and  answer  his  poor  Thisbe.  His  dying 
eyes  unclosed  in  one  long  look  of  love,  and  then  he  died 
in  her  arms. 

She  gazed  around,  saw  her  torn  veil,  and  saw  his  own 
sword  lying,  blood-stained  and  sheathless,  by  his  side. 
She  saw  that  by  his  own  hand  he  had  inflicted  the  fatal 
wound;  that,  believing  her  dead,  he  had  not  chosen  to 
survive. 

Should  her  love  be  weaker  than  his  ?  She  it  was  who 
had  been  the  innocent  cause  of  his  death,  and  she  would 
share  it.  One  prayer  she  breathed  that  their  cruel  parents 
would  grant  them  at  last  to  be  joined  together,  and  in 
one  urn  confine  their  ashes.  Of  the  drooping  mulberry 
tree,  beneath  whose  kindly  shade  she  made  her  piteous 
lament,  she  begged  one  boon — that  by  the  purple  color 


The  Story  of  Pyramus  and  Thisbe          343 

of  its  fruit  it  would  bear  perpetual  witness  to  their  love 
and  their  untimely  death. 

Then  in  her  bosom  she  plunged  the  sword,  yet  warm 
with  the  blood  of  its  slaughtered  lord,  and  fell  dead 
beside  him. 

The  prayer  that  dying  Thisbe  breathed  was  heard  by 
compassionate  gods  and  parents.  Their  ashes  were 
mixed  in  one  golden  urn,  and  from  that  sad  day  the 
fruit  of  the  mulberry  tree  has  been  stained  a  lustrous 
purple. 


HERO  AND  LEANDER 

BY  MRS.  GUY  E.  LLOYD 

THE  goddess  Venus  was  the  Queen  of  Love  and 
Beauty,  and  her  worship  was  spread  over  all  the 
world,  for  indeed  she  was  one  of  the  greatest  of  the 
immortals,  and  even  the  father  of  gods  and  of  men  him 
self  had  to  own  her  power. 

She  had  many  great  and  noted  temples,  and  one  of 
these  was  at  Sestos,  close  by  the  side  of  the  Hellespont, 
the  sea  in  which  Helle  sank  and  was  drowned  when  the 
Golden  Ram  carried  off  her  brother  Phrixus  and  herself. 

When  this  tale  begins  the  priestess  of  the  temple  of 
Venus  at  Sestos  was  a  very  beautiful  maiden  called  Hero. 
It  was  her  duty  to  tend  the  altar  of  the  goddess,  to  offer 
sacrifices,  to  hang  up  the  votive  offerings  of  worshipers 
round  the  walls,  and  to  see  that  the  slaves  appointed  to 
the  work  kept  the  marble  steps  and  pillars  always  shin 
ing  and  polished. 

And  many  a  youth  came  to  worship  at  the  temple,  less 
for  the  sake  of  the  goddess  than  for  the  beautiful  priest 
ess;  but  Hero  never  gave  a  glance  at  any  man  but 
carefully  fulfilled  her  daily  task,  and  every  night  retired 
to  a  tall  tower  on  the  cliff  beside  the  sea,  where  she  lived 
alone  with  an  aged  nurse  who  loved  her  dearly  and  was 
ready  to  do  anything  for  her. 

Every  year  a  great  festival  was  held  at  Sestos,  in  honor 
of  Adonis,  the  beautiful  boy  whom  Venus  had  loved,  and 
who  had  been  slain  by  a  wild  boar.  To  this  festival 

344 


Hero  and  Leander  345 

flocked  all  the  countryside.  Large-eyed  oxen  drew  the 
creaking  wagons  all  adorned  with  flowers  and  grasses, 
and  crowded  with  rustics  from  the  inland  farms,  and 
across  the  narrow  strait  came  gay  barges,  bringing  wor 
shipers  from  the  villages  along  the  opposite  shore.  In 
the  festal  company  there  came  one  day  from  the  town 
of  Abydos,  a  beautiful  youth  named  Leander.  He  was 
tall  and  straight  as  a  young  poplar,  his  bright  eyes 
had  a  ready  smile,  his  red  lips  a  pleasant  word 
for  every  one,  but  no  maiden  had  ever  yet  won  his 
love. 

Leander  only  laughed  at  these  reproaches,  but  hidden 
within  his  heart  was  the  dream  of  a  maiden  fairer  and 
sweeter  than  any  he  yet  had  seen,  to  whom  he  would 
give  his  whole  heart,  and  who,  so  he  dreamt,  would  give 
him  love  for  love. 

So  it  came  about  that  when  the  yearly  feast  of 
Venus  at  Sestos  returned,  Leander  determined  to  go 
and  sacrifice  at  the  altar  of  the  goddess  and  pray  to 
her  that  he  might  meet  the  maiden  of  his  heart's 
desire. 

With  the  throng  of  worshipers  Leander  mounted  the 
hill  to  the  temple  of  Venus.  White  marble  steps  led 
up  to  a  bright  crystal  pavement  that  was  called  by  the 
citizens  of  Sestos  the  glass  of  Venus.  The  walls  were 
of  veined  marble,  and  on  the  dome  a  cunning  artist  had 
painted  a  vine  of  vivid  green,  with  Bacchus,  the  friend 
of  Venus,  gathering  the  purple  grapes.  On  the  wall  be 
hind  was  Proteus,  the  changeful  god  of  the  changeful 
sea,  whence  Venus  had  arisen.  Rich  offerings  of  gold, 
silver,  precious  stones,  and  gorgeous  raiment  hung  on  the 
walls  between  the  carven  figures.  Leander  gazed  his 
fill  at  all  these  wonders,  till  his  eyes  were  caught  and 


346 


Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 


held  by  the  statue  of  the  goddess  that  stood  on  a  pedestal 
in  the  middle  of  the  temple.  Beneath  her  feet  was  a 
great  sea-shell,  borne  on  a  breaking  wave ;  in  her  hands, 
held  close  against  her  breast,  a  pair  of  doves;  her  face, 
looking  out  upon  her  worshipers,  was  such  a  miracle  of 
loveliness  that  the  gazer  caught  his  breath  in  awe  and 
wonder. 

Before  the  statue  stood  a  little  silver  altar,  and  at  this 
the  priestess  was  kneeling  when  Leander  came  to  the 
temple,  for  the  sacrifice  was  just  about  to  be  consum 
mated.  For  a  while  Leander  saw  nothing  but  the  face 
of  the  marble  goddess ;  then  the  kneeling  priestess,  robed 
in  her  gauzy  veil,  arose  and  faced  for  a  moment  the  con 
gregation  of  worshipers.  Leander's  eyes  turned  from 
the  marble  image  to  the  living  woman  who  stood  before 
it,  and  the  eyes  of  Hero  met  his.  As  if  fascinated  they 
gazed  at  one  another,  while  in  both  their  hearts  flamed 
up  the  sudden  fire  of  love. 

The  worshipers  all  knelt,  and  Leander  knelt  with 
them,  but  his  prayer  was  not  to  Venus :  his  soul  was  full 
and  overflowing  with  love  for  the  fair  priestess,  and  it 
was  of  her  alone  he  thought. 

It  seemed  as  though  Hero  had  read  his  thoughts,  for 
as  one  who  walks  in  his  sleep  she  drew  nearer  to  the 
young  man. 

He  started  to  his  feet,  and  bending  forward  grasped 
her  hand.  The  sacrifice  was  over,  the  worshipers  were 
dispersing,  the  two  were  left  alone,  and  for  a  moment 
they  stood  motionless,  both  of  them  trembling  and  awed 
at  their  own  emotion. 

But  when  Hero,  as  if  waking  from  a  dream,  strove  to 
free  her  hand,  Leander  tightened  his  hold  and  whispered 
eagerly :  "  Nay,  leave  me  not,  fair  maiden,  for  I  love 


Hero  and  Leander  347 

thee.  Never  before  have  I  cared  aught  for  mortal  maid, 
but  now  thou  art  more  to  me  than  everything  in  the 
world  beside." 

Hero  flushed  a  rosy  red,  and  her  long  eyelashes  veiled 
the  light  of  her  eyes. 

"  I  know  thee  not,  kind  youth/'  she  faltered,  strug 
gling  betwixt  love  and  maiden  modesty,  abashed  at  what 
she  had  done,  and  at  the  thought  of  how  Leander's  words 
had  made  her  heart  leap  for  joy.  "  It  is  not  fitting  that 
I  should  speak  with  thee — here."  And  then,  in  a  lower 
whisper,  turning  half  away  and  blushing  more  deeply 
than  before,  the  maiden  added  hastily :  "  I  dwell  alone 
with  my  servant  in  yonder  tower  by  the  sea-shore,  and 
when  I  leave  the  service  of  the  goddess  I  ever  put  a 
light  in  the  turret  at  the  top,  so  that  those  on  the  sea 
may  know  where  the  haven  lies  and  steer  safely  home. 
But  thou  must  not  seek  me  there." 

And  snatching  her  hand  from  Leander's  grasp  the  af 
frighted  maiden  turned  and  fled,  while  the  tears  sprang 
to  her  eyes,  and  as  she  ran  she  wept  and  smiled.  As 
she  mounted  the  slope  that  led  to  her  tower  on  the  cliff 
she  slackened  her  pace,  and  dashing  the  tears  from  her 
eyes,  looked  back.  Leander  stood  still  where  she  had 
left  him,  gazing  after  her.  Flinging  her  veil  back  over 
her  shoulder  she  resumed  her  homeward  way,  slowly 
and  with  many  a  backward  look. 

When  she  came  to  her  tower  Hero  told  her  old  servant 
to  lay  out  all  in  readiness  for  the  evening  meal,  and 
then  to  retire  to  her  chamber  above. 

"  Thou  art  overtired,  my  pretty  one,"  said  the  old 
crone.  "  These  crowded  festivals  and  long  days  of  sac 
rifice  are  too  much  for  such  a  tender  flower  as  thou. 
Never  fear,  I  will  leave  thee  here  in  peace — and  see, 


348  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

I  will  light  thy  lamp  in  the  turret  above,  even  now  in 
the  daylight,  then  may  I  seek  the  couch  whereof  my  old 
bones  ever  are  full  fain,  and  thou  shalt  not  need  to  climb 
those  weary  stairs." 

"  As  thou  wilt,  good  nurse,"  answered  Hero,  turning 
aside  to  take  off  her  veil  and  to  hide  her  blush  of  pleas 
ure.  She  had  told  Leander  that  the  light  was  the  signal 
that  her  office  was  ended  for  the  day — would  he  notice 
it?  Would  he  come? 

She  wandered  out  in  the  twilight  and  broke  off 
branches  of  roses  to  deck  the  room ;  she  put  on  the  table 
the  candied  fruits  and  honey-cakes  and  wine  of  Cyprus 
that  the  worshipers  of  Venus  offer  to  her  priestess.  The 
heavy  footsteps  of  the  old  dame  sounded  as  she  mounted 
the  stair  and  came  back  to  her  chamber  and  her  wished- 
for  bed.  Then  silence  fell  on  the  tower,  and  Hero  sat 
with  beating  heart  and  waited. 

Leander  had  climbed  to  the  top  of  the  cliff,  and  there 
had  lain  down  with  his  face  to  the  sea,  determined  to 
keep  his  eyes  from  the  tower  till  there  was  a  reasonable 
chance  of  seeing  the  light. 

"  When  I  see  it  glow,"  said  Leander  to  himself,  "  then 
shall  I  too  know  where  the  haven  lies,  and  steer  safely 
home." 

He  closed  his  eyes  that  he  might  see  once  more  in 
fancy  the  sweet  averted  face  under  the  fine  veil. 

A  noise  below  the  cliff  made  him  look  up;  the  boat 
that  had  come  from  Abydos  in  the  morning  was  starting 
back  again.  He  watched  it  with  a  smile.  It  seemed  to 
him  a  lifetime  since  he  stepped  from  its  deck  upon  the 
quay.  Straight  across  to  the  other  shore  of  this  narrow 
arm  of  the  sea  was  but  a  mile,  but  the  slanting  course 
to  Abydos  was  full  three  miles'  distance.  Leander 


Hero  and  Leander  349 

watched  the  boat  as  she  left  the  quay  with  all  his  friends 
on  board;  then  he  could  wait  no  longer;  he  looked  up 
at  Hero's  tower;  and  there,  in  the  top  of  the  turret, 
flamed  the  signal  light. 

Small  pause  made  Leander  when  once  he  had  seen 
that. 

Meanwhile,  from  her  casement,  Hero  too  had  seen  the 
boat  putting  out  for  Abydos,  and  believing  Leander  to 
be  on  board,  gone  from  Sestos  perhaps  forever,  the 
maiden  sank  down  beside  her  open  door,  and  covering  her 
face  with  her  hands  she  wept  sore. 

"  Alas,"  she  murmured,  "  he  is  gone,  gone,  gone !  The 
boat  has  sailed  away." 

Leander,  as  he  mounted  the  rocky  stairs  that  led  to 
the  turret,  overheard  the  maiden's  cry,  and,  rushing  for 
ward,  he  flung  himself  on  his  knees  beside  her  and  softly 
kissed  her  fingers.  Then,  looking  up  with  a  start,  the 
maiden  would  fain  have  seemed  wroth  at  the  sight  of 
him,  but  it  was  too  late.  She  had  yielded  at  a  touch, 
and  Love  was  lord  of  all. 

But  on  the  morrow  Leander  must  return  to  his  home 
at  Abydos.  So  he  took  ship  early  in  the  morning,  find 
ing  a  vessel  that  was  sailing  thither,  and  came  to  his 
own  home  again.  His  father  noticed  at  once  that  the 
youth  was  wearing  a  sprig  of  myrtle  and  a  scarf  em 
broidered  with  the  doves  of  Venus,  and  he  chid  him 
sharply. 

"  There  are  plenty  of  fair  maids  here,  in  thy  own 
land,"  said  he ;  "  choose  one  of  them  and  be  happy  with 
her,  but  woo  not  the  priestess  of  Venus,  or  harm  will 
come  of  it." 

Leander  made  no  answer  to  his  father's  admonition, 
but  in  his  heart  he  knew  that  no  other  maiden  could 


350  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

ever  after  content  him,  and  that  he  must  see  Hero  again, 
though  he  died  for  it. 

After  his  father's  admonition  he  dared  not  be  seen 
crossing  the  strait  by  day,  but  when  night  fell  he  wan 
dered  by  the  sea,  looking  longingly  across  the  dark  wa 
ter;  then,  far  and  faint,  like  a  star  through  the  clear 
night,  he  caught  the  glimmer  of  Hero's  lamp. 

"  Alas !  "  cried  Leander,  "  there  lies  the  haven.  Ah, 
would  that  I  might  steer  safely  home." 

Then  with  sudden  resolution  he  flung  his  outer  gar 
ment  from  him  and  plunging  into  the  water  oared  his 
way  with  mighty  strokes  towards  the  glimmer  of  the 
light,  and  Hero,  combing  her  long  locks  in  the  moon 
light  and  thinking  of  her  lover,  was  ware  that  he  stood 
before  her,  and  could  hardly  believe  it  was  his  very 
self. 

So  once  more  they  had  joy  of  one  another's  love  until 
the  daybreak  appeared  in  the  sky,  and  then  Leander  said 
farewell  with  many  kisses  and  swam  safely  home  again, 
and  no  man  the  wiser. 

The  days  passed  on  and  the  youth's  father  was 
pleased  at  his  restored  cheerfulness,  and  thought  that 
Hero  must  be  forgotten,  for  he  never  crossed  as  he  had 
been  wont  to  Sestos. 

The  summer  passed,  and  one  day  there  swept  down 
from  the  hills  the  first  of  the  autumn  storms. 

Poor  Hero,  as  she  set  her  light  in  the  turret,  looked 
out  across  the  tossing,  white-capped  waves  and  sighed 
as  she  thought  that  no  swimmer  could  cross  a  sea  like 
that.  But  Leander  flinched  not,  for  he  plunged,  buffet 
ing  the  angry  waves  with  a  good  heart,  and  ever  as  he 
rose  upon  their  crests  looking  out  for  Hero's  light.  The 
fury  of  the  sea  could  not  master  him,  but  the  autumn 


Hero  and  Leander  351 

chill  struck  home  to  his  bones.  Long  he  battled  with 
the  rising  billows,  but  the  storm  waxed  fiercer  and  the 
farther  shore  seemed  no  nearer.  Fainter  and  fainter 
grew  the  swimmer,  but  still  he  struggled  on.  When  he 
looked  from  a  crest  of  the  waves  his  lodestar  was  gone; 
a  black  cloud  had  hidden  the  turret  lamp.  Then  at  last 
his  heart  failed  him,  and  flinging  up  his  arms  he  sank 
to  his  watery  grave. 

Long  did  Hero  wait  that  night,  hoping  and  fearing 
by  turns ;  and  when  her  lover  did  not  come  she  wept  bit 
ter  tears.  But  far  worse  pain  was  to  come.  For  on 
the  next  day  came  to  her  tower  the  father  of  Leander. 

"  Is  my  son  here  ?  "  he  asked,  briefly  and  sternly. 

Hero  trembling  answered,  "  No,  fair  sir." 

"  Is  it  true  that  he  hath  many  times  swum  across  the 
sea  and  visited  thee  ?  " 

The  maiden  hanging  her  head  and  blushing  deeply  an 
swered,  "Yea." 

"  Then  without  doubt  my  son  is  drowned,  and  by  thy 
fault,"  said  the  grief-stricken  father,  "  for  this  morning 
were  his  garments  found  near  the  water's  edge,  but  of 
him  there  was  no  sign." 

Even  while  he  spoke  there  came  from  the  quay  a  cry 
of  sorrow  and  lamentation,  and  clambering  swiftly  down 
the  cliff  those  two  saw,  laid  upon  the  shore  by  tender 
hands,  the  strong  and  beautiful  body  of  the  dead  Leander, 
whom  they  both  had  loved  beyond  all  other  living  things 
upon  the  earth. 


PYGMALION  AND  THE  IMAGE 

(After  William  Morris) 

BY   F.    STORR 

IN  ancient  times  there  lived  in  Cyprus  a  sculptor 
named  Pygmalion.  He  had  won  for  himself  fame 
and  wealth  by  his  cunning  as  a  worker  in  marble,  and 
his  carven  images  of  gods  and  goddesses,  of  heroes  and 
heroines,  were  to  be  seen  in  every  temple  of  the  island 
and  in  all  the  palaces  of  the  great.  Many  an  island 
maiden  cast  on  him  admiring  eyes,  and  would  beseech 
him  to  immortalize  her  features  in  marble  when  he  was 
engaged  in  sculpturing  a  naiad  for  a  public  fountain, 
or  an  oread  for  the  shrine  of  the  Great  Huntress.  Yet, 
though  rich  and  famous  and  admired  of  women, 
Pygmalion  was  sad  and  dissatisfied.  The  nobles  ap 
plauded  and  feasted  him,  but  regarded  him  as  an  artisan 
of  low  birth  and  would  not  admit  him  to  their  friend 
ship.  The  fairest  maidens  of  Crete  seemed  to  him  plain 
and  common  when  he  compared  them  with  the  godlike 
forms  that  his  chisel  had  wrought,  and,  still  more,  with 
the  perfect  woman  whom  his  imagination  pictured  but 
even  his  hand  had  not  the  skill  to  realize. 

So  it  chanced  one  day  that,  after  wandering  listlessly 
about  the  streets,  watching  the  bales  of  Tyrian  purple 
piled  on  the  quays,  and  listening  to  the  chaffering  of  the 
dark-eyed  merchants,  he  hied  him  home  heavy-hearted, 
and  turned  mechanically  for  relief  to  the  daily  work  by 
which  he  earned  his  bread. 

352 


Pygmalion  and  the  Image  353 

He  had  begun  rough-hewing  a  block  of  Parian  mar 
ble,  uncertain  at  starting  what  he  should  make  of  it; 
but  as  he  worked  on,  the  veins  in  the  marble  suggested 
to  him  a  woman's  form,  and  in  careless  mood  he  ex 
claimed,  "  Grant,  Lady  Venus,  that  this  statue  may  be 
a  fulfilment  of  my  dream,  an  express  image,  a  reflec 
tion  on  earth  of  thy  celestial  beauty.  Only  grant  my 
prayer  and  I  vow  that  the  maid  shall  be  dedicated  to 
thee,  and  serve  thee  in  thy  myrtle  grove."  So  he  prayed 
carelessly,  but  the  goddess  was  by  and  heard  his  prayer, 
and  so  guided  his  hand  that  he  wrought  more  surely  and 
deftly  than  he  had  ever  wrought  before.  As  the  white 
chips  flew  beneath  his  touch,  a  strange  joy  thrilled  his 
heart,  and  withal,  a  dim  sense  of  trouble,  as  though  he 
were  pursuing  his  own  'shadow,  a  phantom  of  his  brain 
that  still  eluded  his  grasp. 

So  he  worked  on  hour  after  hour  through  the  day,  and 
all  night  he  dreamt  of  his  work.  So  absorbed  was  he 
that  for  a  whole  month  he  forgot  his  morning  plunge  in 
the  river,  forgot  his  stroll  through  the  woods  at  sunset, 
forgot  even  to  water  the  flowers  in  his  garden  close. 
And  yet,  so  exquisitely  delicate  were  the  added  touches 
and  the  smoothing  of  the  marble,  that  you  could  have 
covered  with  a  penny-piece  all  that  had  fallen  in  the 
month  from  his  chisel. 

And  still  he  seemed  no  nearer  to  his  goal;  so  one 
morning,  after  a  restless  night,  he  arose  and  said  to  him 
self,  "Pygmalion,  thou  art  mad;  some  witch  hath  laid 
her  spell  upon  thee.  Rouse  thyself  while  it  is  yet  time; 
break  the  wicked  spell;  live  as  thou  didst  before,  and 
seek  not  to  attain  that  perfect  beauty  that  is  laid  up  in 
the  heavens  beyond  mortal  ken." 

With  that  he  took  his  bow  and  quiver,  passed  through 


354 


Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 


the  town  and  out  of  the  gates  to  the  high  woodlands  be 
yond,  to  see  if  he  had  quite  forgotten  his  old  wood 
craft. 

It  was  a  fine  summer  morning,  and  the  scent  of  the 
fields  was  wafted  to  him  on  the  west  wind.  All  around 
him  as  he  passed  was  astir  with  life.  The  tall  poplars 
rippled  and  quivered  in  the  sunlight;  the  bees  were  busy 
in  the  clover;  the  swallows  darted  overhead,  and  the 
swish  of  the  mower's  scythe  kept  time  with  him  as  he 
strode  on. 

At  last  he  sat  him  down  fordone.  "  The  sun/'  he 
mused,  "  like  me,  has  already  passed  his  zenith  and  is 
hurrying  to  his  rest.  All  nature  is  stirring,  and  each 
living  thing  is  pursuing  the  daily  round,  its  appointed 
task.  Why  am  I  alone  a  dreamer  of  dreams,  the  idler 
of  an  empty  day?" 

With  that  he  turned,  and,  goaded  on  by  a  wild  desire, 
he  knew  not  for  what,  found  himself  before  he  was 
aware  at  his  own  door. 

One  moment  he  lingered  at  the  threshold  and  said, 
"  Ah !  what  should  I  do  if  she  were  gone  ?  "  As  he  ut 
tered  the  words  he  turned  red  at  his  own  madness  to 
dream  that  the  goddess  might  have  wrought  a  miracle 
and  spirited  her  away  to  the  myrtle  grove,  and  yet  again 
he  turned  deadly  pale  at  the  very  thought  of  such  a 
marvel.  So,  sighing,  he  passed  into  the  house,  but  paused 
again  before  he  summoned  courage  to  enter  his  chamber 
where  the  statue  stood. 

Nothing  was  changed.  He  caught  up  his  chisel  and 
tenderly  essayed  to  perfect  the  marvel  of  the  face  that 
he  had  wrought.  But  to  touch  it  now  seemed  to  him  a 
profanation,  and  flinging  down  the  idle  chisel  he  cried, 
"  Alas !  why  have  I  made  thee  that  thou  should'st  mock 


Pygmalion  and  the  Image  355 

me  thus?  I  know  that  there  are  many  like  unto  thee, 
whose  beauty  is  a  snare  to  draw  men  into  the  net;  but 
these  the  gods  made  to  punish  lust.  Thee  I  made  with 
a  pure  heart  to  worship  and  adore,  and  thou  wilt  not 
speak  one  little  word  to  me." 

So  saying,  he  drew  back  and  gazed  on  the  image 
through  his  tears.  In  truth  it  was  of  wondrous  beauty, 
and  could  you  have  seen  it,  you  would  have  said  that 
it  lacked  little  to  be  a  living  maid.  Her  unbound  hair 
half  hid  the  tender  curve  of  her  breast;  one  hand  was 
outstretched  as  if  to  greet  a  lover,  and  the  other  held 
a  full-blown  rose.  There  was  no  smile  on  the  parted 
lips,  and  in  the  wistful  eyes  there  was  a  look,  not  of 
love,  but  as  of  one  to  whom  love's  mystery  and  magic 
were  already  half  revealed. 

Thus  he  stood  agaze,  ashamed  of  his  infatuate  folly, 
yet  with  an  infinite  longing,  stronger  and  stranger  than 
he  had  ever  felt  before. 

There  happened  to  be  passing  in  the  street  some  sturdy 
slaves  who  were  bearing  bales  to  the  wharf.  He  hailed 
them  and  offered  them  a  rich  reward  if  they  would 
help  him  to  move  the  ponderous  statue  and  set  it  in 
an  empty  niche  beside  his  bed.  When  they  had  departed 
he  searched  his  coffers  to  find  gems  and  jewels  where 
with  to  deck  his  lady  of  marble,  but  those  he  possessed 
seemed  all  too  poor;  so  he  took  with  him  all  his  store 
of  gold  and  bought  from  the  merchants  a  necklace  of 
pearls,  and  anklets  and  bracelets  set  with  rare  and 
precious  stones.  These  he  hung  upon  the  cold  marble 
and  cast  him  down  like  a  pilgrim  at  a  shrine,  praying 
his  saint  to  accept  his  poor  offering.  So  he  prayed  on 
till,  outworn  with  passion,  he  slept  at  her  feet.  With 
the  first  dawn  he  awoke  and  passed  into  his  garden  to 


356 


Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 


pick  fresh  flowers  to  lay  upon  her  shrine.  Then  he 
brought  an  altar  that  he  had  wrought  of  chased  gold 
for  a  great  lord's  hearth,  and  lit  thereon  a  fire  of  cedar 
and  sandal-wood,  and,  as  the  smoke  of  cassia  and  frank 
incense  arose,  he  prayed  and  said,  "  Thou  cold  and  mute 
image,  not  till  I  die  shall  I  know  whether  the  gods  have 
sent  a  lying  spirit  to  make  me  their  sport,  but  this  I 
know,  that  in  life  I  shall  love  none  but  thee  alone. 
Therefore,  if  thou  canst  not  give  me  love  for  love,  in 
pity  take  my  life  and  let  me  rest  at  last." 

Thus  he  prayed,  and  the  image  neither  spake  nor 
moved,  but  the  sweet  grave  eyes  his  hands  had  wrought 
gazed  down,  as  if  touched  with  ruth  and  tenderness,  on 
his  bended  head.  So  all  day  he  worshiped  at  the  shrine ; 
but  on  the  morrow,  as  the  incense-smoke  was  curling 
round  her  head,  he  heard  in  the  street  the  sound  of 
minstrelsy,  and  as  if  fascinated  by  the  sweet  music,  he 
left  his  prayer  half  said  and  went  forth  and  beheld  a 
gay  train  of  men  and  maidens  who  bore  on  a  car  of  gold 
an  image  of  the  Queen  of  Love  that  he  himself  had 
wrought  in  the  old  forgotten  days,  now  draped  for  her 
solemn  festival  in  a  saffron  robe  broidered  with  mystic 
characters  of  gold. 

So  he  donned  a  festal  chlamys  and  joined  the  glad 
procession,  who  led  the  goddess  back  to  her  temple, 
stripped  her  reverently  of  her  weeds,  and  laid  at  her  shrine 
their  offerings  of  golden  grain  and  honeycomb.  By  mid 
day  the  crowd  of  worshipers  had  all  departed,  and  he 
was  left  alone  in  the  dim-lit  temple.  He  drew  near  the 
shrine  where  stood  his  masterpiece — how  feeble  and 
faulty  now  it  seemed — and  casting  incense  on  the  altar 
flame,  he  prayed  with  stammering  lips  to  his  goddess : 

"  Queen  of  Heaven,  who  didst  help  me  of  yore,  help 


Pygmalion  and  the  Image  357 

me  yet  again.  Have  I  not  prayed,  have  I  not  wept,  have 
I  not  done  thee  true  service?  I  have  no  words  to  tell 
thee  my  need,  but  thou  knowest  all  my  heart's  desire. 
Hear  me,  O  Queen !  " 

And,  as  he  prayed,  suddenly  the  thin  flame  on  the 
altar  quivered  like  a  live  thing,  and  leapt  up  till  it  al 
most  touched  the  temple  dome,  sinking  once  more  into 
a  feeble  flicker. 

At  this  marvel  his  heart  bounded  wildly;  but  as  the 
flame  died  down  he  said  to  himself,  "  Is  not  this  another 
brain-sick  phantom  ?  "  and  with  sad  steps  and  slow  he 
left  the  temple  to  seek  his  loveless  home. 

As  he  stood  before  the  door  in  the  broad  light  of  day 
he  seemed  like  one  awaking  from  a  dream,  yet  the  bliss 
it  had  brought  still  lingered  on,  like  the  after-glow  on  an 
Alpine  height,  and  he  blessed  the  goddess  even  for  his 
dream.  So  he  entered  his  chamber,  wrapped  in  memories 
both  sad  and  sweet,  and  paused  with  downcast  eyes  be 
fore  they  sought  again  his  marble  maid.  Then  he  looked 
up,  and  lo,  the  niche  was  bare !  and  he  cried  aloud,  bewil 
dered  and  amazed.  A  soft,  low  voice  breathed  his  name. 
He  turned,  and  there  between  him  and  the  setting  sun 
stood  his  marble  maid,  clad  in  life  and  new  beauty.  The 
lineaments  were  the  same — the  brow,  the  lips,  the  tresses 
unconfined;  but  she  came  appareled  in  a  more  precious 
habit,  for  over  all  the  goddess  had  shed  the  purple  light 
of  love,  and  had  clothed  her  in  the  shining  garment  that 
he  had  seen  that  morning  laid  up  in  her  temple. 

Speechless  he  stood  in  wonder  and  amazement,  and 
once  again  her  silver  voice  rang  out  clear: 

"  Wilt  thou  not  come  to  me, 
O   dear  companion   of  my  new-found  life, 
For  I  am  called  thy  lover  and  thy  wife." 


358 


Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 


Still  he  moved  not,  and  spake  no  word.  Then  she 
reached  her  hand  to  him,  and  looked  at  him  with  plead 
ing  eyes.  The  spell  that  bound  him  was  broken;  he 
caught  the  outstretched  hands  and  drew  her  to  him,  felt 
the  sweet  breath  he  had  sought  so  long  in  vain,  felt  the 
warm  life  within  her  heaving  breast,  and  clasped  in  his 
arms  his  living  love. 

And,  as  they  stood  there,  cheek  touching  cheek,  he 
heard  her  say,  "  Why  art  thou  silent,  O  my  love  ?  Dost 
think,  perchance,  that  this  too  is  a  dream?  Nay,  if  thou 
lov'st  me  still,  I  will  never  leave  thee  nor  forsake  thee. 
Come  with  me  into  thy  garden  close,  and  there  will  I 
tell  thee  all  the  comfortable  words  that  the  Queen  of 
Love  spoke  to  me,  and  thou  shalt  tell  me  all  thy  hopes 
and  fears,  thy  yearning  for  a  beauty  not  of  earth,  thy 
sleepless  nights,  and  all  thy  pain." 

So  they  passed  into  the  garden  close,  and  there  be 
neath  the  whispering  trees,  by  the  soft  moonlight,  those 
happy  lovers  told  each  other  the  story  of  their  love. 
What  were  the  words  they  said  I  cannot  tell  again.  This 
happened  long  ago,  when  the  world  was  young,  and  they 
spoke  in  a  tongue  that  few  if  any  now  can  understand. 
Yet  a  poet  of  our  own  age  has  understood  and  translated 
for  us  the  last  word  that  the  Queen  of  Heavenly  Love 
spoke  to  her  servant  Pygmalion : 

"Beauty  is  truth,  truth  beauty— that  is  all 
Ye  know  on  earth,  and  all  ye  need  to  know." 


CEPHALUS  AND  PROCRIS 

BY   H.   P.   MASKELL 

IT  was  the  banqueting-hall  of  the  palace  at  ^Egina. 
The  young  prince  Phocus  had  invited  his  comrades  to 
join  him  in  a  hunting  party,  and  now,  after  dinner,  they 
were  gathered  round  the  fire  amusing  themselves  with 
stories  of  the  chase.  Meanwhile  Cephalus,  gray-headed 
and  stricken  in  years,  more  weary  than  the  others,  sat 
silent  and  apart. 

The  prince,  noticing  his  moody  look,  rose  and  made 
room  for  him  to  join  the  circle.  "  May  I  ask,"  he  in 
quired,  "  from  what  tree  the  javelin  thou  art  holding 
was  cut?  I  have  been  a  hunter  all  my  life,  yet  its  tex 
ture  puzzles  me.  A  wild  oak  would  have  been  brown 
in  color,  a  cornel-wood  shaft  would  show  the  knots. 
Never  yet  have  I  seen  so  taper  and  shapely  a  javelin." 

One  of  the  youths  interposed :  "  Ah !  but  as  a  weapon 
it  is  even  more  wonderful  than  for  its  beauty.  What 
ever  it  is  aimed  at  it  strikes.  Chance  does  not  guide 
its  course  when  thrown;  and  it  flies  back  of  its  own  ac 
cord,  stained  with  the  blood  of  the  quarry." 

Then  Phocus  became  more  curious  still  to  know  its 
history.  Who  was  the  giver  of  so  precious  a  present? 

Cephalus  at  length  consented  to  tell  the  story,  tears 
starting  to  his  eyes  at  the  sorrow  revived  in  his  heart 
by  the  memories  it  recalled.  "  Long  as  I  live,"  he  ex 
claimed  with  a  sigh,  "  this  weapon  will  cause  me  to  weep, 
for  it  proved  the  ruin  of  myself  and  my  dear  wife 

359 


360  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

Procris.  Fairer  and  sweeter  was  she  than  even  her  sister 
Orithyia,  whom  Boreas  carried  off.  Her  father  Erech- 
theus  bestowed  her  upon  me,  and  for  love  she  chose  me 
for  her  own.  I  was  considered  a  lucky  man  in  possess 
ing  her,  and  so  I  was.  In  all  Greece  you  could  not  have 
found  a  happier  pair  of  lovers,  and  the  gods  themselves 
were  jealous  of  our  bliss — too  great  for  mortals.  Before 
the  second  month  was  ended  after  our  marriage  feast, 
Aurora,  the  goddess  of  the  Dawn,  beheld  me  in  the  early 
morn  as  I  was  planting  nets  to  trap  the  deer  from  the 
heights  of  Hymettus,  and  I  followed  her  against  my  will. 
She  cast  her  spell  on  me,  and  held  me  by  the  witchery  of 
her  great  eyes  and  rosy  ringers.  Fair  she  is,  with  a  beauty 
not  of  earth,  but  she  seemed  to  me  less  fair  than  Procris. 
Procris  was  ever  in  my  thoughts,  and  in  my  dreams  I 
breathed  the  name  of  Procris.  Then  the  goddess  cried 
angrily,  '  You  may  keep  your  Procris.  The  day  will 
come  when  you  will  wish  you  had  never  possessed  her ! ' 

"  Diana  had  bestowed  on  Procris,  who  loved  the  hunt, 
Laelaps,  the  hound  whom  no  wild  beast  can  outrun,  and 
this  javelin  which  nothing  can  escape,  as  a  token  of  our 
reconciliation.  These  she  gave  to  me. 

"  Would  you  like  to  know  the  fate  of  this  other  pres 
ent — the  dog?  When  (Edipus  had  solved  that  riddle 
which  none  other  could  guess,  and  the  Sphinx  who  in 
vented  it  lay  a  mangled  corpse,  Themis  left  her  not  un 
avenged.  Another  plague  was  sent  against  Thebes,  and 
a  savage  monster  devoured  both  the  peasants  and  their 
cattle.  We,  the  youth  of  the  district,  came  together  and 
inclosed  the  fields  with  nets,  but  the  monster  with  a  light 
bound  leaped  over  them  and  escaped.  The  dogs  were 
loosed,  and  they  followed,  but  it  escaped  them  as  easily 
as  a  winged  bird.  My  dog  Lselaps — a  tempest  for  speed 


Cephalus  and  Procris  361 

— was  straining  at  the  leash.  Eagerly  the  bystanders 
begged  me  to  unloose  him.  Scarcely  had  I  done  so  when 
he  was  lost  to  our  sight.  A  spear  flies  not  more  swiftly, 
nor  pellets  from  a  sling,  nor  arrows  from  a  Cretan  bow. 
I  watched  from  the  hill-top  this  marvelous  chase.  At 
one  time  the  wild  beast  seemed  caught,  at  another  to 
have  clean  escaped  as  it  dodged  and  doubled,  so  that 
its  enemy  could  not  run  full  tilt  at  it.  I  was  now  think 
ing  to  use  my  javelin;  and  while  fitting  my  fingers  to  the 
thongs,  turned  my  eyes  one  moment  from  the  quarry. 
When  I  looked  again,  I  beheld  a  still  more  wonderful 
sight.  There  were  two  marble  statues  in  the  middle  of 
the  plain ;  you  would  fancy  one  was  flying  and  the  other 
barking  in  pursuit.  No  doubt  some  god  desired  that 
both  should  remain  unconquered  in  this  test  of  speed." 

"  But  why  should  you  complain  of  the  javelin?  "  inter 
rupted  Phocus.  "  What  fault  is  there  in  it  ?  " 

"  O  Son  of  ./Eacus,"  replied  Cephalus,  "  my  sorrows 
have  yet  to  be  told.  For  years  I  was  blest  in  my  wife, 
and  she  was  happy  in  her  husband.  None,  not  even 
Jupiter  himself,  could  have  come  between  us,  nor  could 
Venus  have  drawn  me  from  my  love. 

"  When  the  sun  was  just  gilding  the  hill-tops  I  was 
wont  to  go  into  the  woods  to  hunt.  I  wanted  no  serv 
ants,  nor  horses,  nor  even  keen-scented  hounds  with  me ; 
my  sure  javelin  was  enough  for  me.  When  I  was  sated 
with  the  slaughter  of  wild  beasts  I  would  betake  myself 
to  some  cool  shady  spot,  and  enjoy  the  breeze  coming 
gently  over  the  cool  valleys,  and  so  refreshing  in  the 
noontide  heat.  While  I  awaited  the  rising  of  the  breeze, 
I  would  sing  a  sort  of  refrain :  '  Come,  gentle  Aura, 
kindly  Aura;  come  to  my  breast;  with  thy  cool  sweet 
ness  refresh  me,  parched  by  the  heat ! '  Perhaps,  as 


362  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

cruel  fate  might  have  prompted  me,  I  added  other  words, 
such  as  '  Sweet  Aura,  thou  art  my  delight !  Thou  dost 
love  and  refresh  me ;  thou  makest  me  to  seek  woods  and 
lonely  haunts,  and  thy  breath  is  pleasant  on  my  face/ 
Some  busybody  must  have  heard  me ;  and,  imagining  that 
I  was  in  love  with  some  nymph  named  Aura,  carried  the 
story  to  my  wife. 

"  Love  is  only  too  ready  to  believe  the  worst.  When 
Procris  heard  the  tale  she  fell  down  fainting  with  sudden 
grief.  Then  coming  to,  she  bemoaned  her  wretched  fate, 
and  wept  for  my  faithlessness.  She  believed  that  this 
Aura  was  a  maiden  and  a  rival.  Yet,  hoping  she  might 
be  deceived,  she  would  not  pass  sentence  unless  she  be 
held  my  treachery  with  her  own  eyes. 

"  Next  morning,  at  sunrise,  I  went  out  as  usual  to 
the  woods,  and  being  successful  in  the  chase,  lay  down 
to  rest  myself,  murmuring,  '  Come  to  me,  sweetest  Aura/ 
Methought  I  heard  a  faint  far-distant  moan,  but  I  heeded 
not  and  said  again,  '  Come,  Aura,  come ! '  A  rustling 
of  leaves  startled  me,  and,  thinking  it  was  a  wild  beast, 
I  let  fly  my  javelin. 

"  Alas !  it  was  Procris.  Crying,  '  Ah,  wretched  me ! ' 
she  received  the  dart  in  her  breast.  I  ran  to  the  sound 
of  her  voice.  To  my  distraction  I  found  her  dying,  her 
garments  stained  with  blood,  and  drawing  her  own  gift, 
that  too-sure  javelin,  out  of  her  wound.  I  lifted  up  her 
body,  dearer  to  me  than  my  own,  in  my  guilty  arms,  and 
bound  up  the  cruel  wounds  with  strips  torn  from  my 
garments;  and  I  tried  vainly  to  stanch  the  blood,  beg 
ging  her  not  to  die  and  leave  me  desolate. 

"  With  gasping  breath  and  broken  utterance  she  whis 
pered  in  my  ear :  '  I  beseech  thee,  by  the  gods  above,  and 
by  our  marriage  vows,  and  by  my  love  even  now  endur- 


Cephalus  and  Procris  363 

ing  though  I  die,  not  to  let  that  light-of-love,  Aura,  pos 
sess  the  heart  that  once  was  mine ! '  Then,  at  last,  I 
saw  the  mistake  of  the  name,  and  that  her  fears  were 
about  a  shadow.  I  reassured  her.  But  what  availed 
it?  She  was  sinking,  and  her  little  strength  faded  away 
with  her  life-blood.  So  long  as  she  could  look  at  any 
thing,  she  gazed  on  me,  and  breathed  out  with  a  smile 
her  unhappy  life.  But  I  like  to  fancy  she  died  free  from 
care,  and  with  a  look  of  content. 

"  I  still  cherish  her  memory.  No  mortal  maid  has  since 
possessed  my  heart.  So  have  I  grown  old  in  the  serv 
ice  of  Diana,  looking  to  the  day  which  cannot  now  be 
long  distant  when  we  can  meet  and  renew  our  love  in 
the  Elysian  fields." 


ECHO  AND  NARCISSUS 

BY  THOMAS   BULFINCH 

ECHO  was  a  beautiful  nymph,  fond  of  the  woods 
and  hills,  where  she  devoted  herself  to  woodland 
sports.  She  was  a  favorite  of  Diana,  and  attended  her 
in  the  chase.  But  Echo  had  one  failing;  she  was  fond 
of  talking,  and  whether  in  chat  or  argument,  would  have 
the  last  word.  One  day  Juno  was  seeking  her  husband, 
who,  she  had  reason  to  fear,  was  amusing  himself  among 
the  nymphs.  Echo  by  her  talk  contrived  to  detain  the 
goddess  till  the  nymphs  made  their  escape.  When  Juno 
discovered  it,  she  passed  sentence  upon  Echo  in  these 
words :  "  You  shall  forfeit  the  use  of  that  tongue  with 
which  you  have  cheated  me,  except  for  that  one  purpose 
you  are  so  fond  of— reply.  You  shall  still  have  the  last 
word,  but  no  power  to  speak  first." 

This  nymph  saw  Narcissus,  a  beautiful  youth,  as  he 
pursued  the  chase  upon  the  mountains.  She  loved  him, 
and  followed  his  footsteps.  O,  how  she  longed  to  ad 
dress  him  in  the  softest  accents,  and  win  him  to  converse ! 
but  it  was  not  in  her  power.  She  waited  with  impatience 
for  him  to  speak  first,  and  had  her  answer  ready.  One 
day  the  youth,  being  separated  from  his  companions, 
shouted  aloud,  "Who's  here?"  Echo  replied,  "Here." 
Narcissus  looked  around,  but  seeing  no  one,  called  out, 
"  Come."  Echo  answered,  "  Come."  As  no  one  came, 
Narcissus  called  again,  "  Why  do  you  shun  me  ?  "  Echo 
asked  the  same  question.  "  Let  us  join  one  another," 

364 


Echo  and  Narcissus  365 

said  the  youth.  The  maid  answered  with  all  her  heart 
in  the  same  words,  and  hastened  to  the  spot,  ready  to 
throw  her  arms  about  his  neck.  He  started  back,  ex 
claiming,  "  Hands  off !  I  would  rather  die  than  you 
should  have  me !  "  "  Have  me,"  said  she ;  but  it  was 
all  in  vain.  He  left  her,  and  she  went  to  hide  her  blushes 
in  the  recesses  of  the  woods.  From  that  time  forth  she 
lived  in  caves  and  among  the  mountain  cliffs.  Her  form 
faded  with  grief,  till  at  last  all  her  flesh  shrank  away. 
Her  bones  were  changed  into  rocks,  and  there  was  noth 
ing  left  of  her  but  her  voice.  With  that  she  is  still  ready 
to  reply  to  any  one  who  calls  her,  and  keeps  up  her  old 
habit  of  having  the  last  word. 

Narcissus'  cruelty  in  this  case  was  not  the  only  in 
stance.  He  shunned  all  the  rest  of  the  nymphs,  as  he  had 
done  poor  Echo.  One  day  a  maiden,  who  had  in  vain  en 
deavored  to  attract  him,  uttered  a  prayer  that  he  might 
some  time  or  other  feel  what  it  was  to  love  and  meet  no 
return  of  affection.  The  avenging  goddess  heard  and 
granted  the  prayer. 

There  was  a  clear  fountain,  with  water  like  silver, 
to  which  the  shepherds  never  drove  their  flocks,  nor  the 
mountain  goats  resorted,  nor  any  of  the  beasts  of  the 
forest;  neither  was  it  defaced  with  fallen  leaves  or 
branches;  but  the  grass  grew  fresh  around  it,  and  the 
rocks  sheltered  it  from  the  sun.  Hither  came  one  day 
the  youth  fatigued  with  hunting,  heated  and  thirsty.  He 
stooped  down  to  drink,  and  saw  his  own  image  in  the 
water ;  he  thought  it  was  some  beautiful  water-spirit  liv 
ing  in  the  fountain.  He  stood  gazing  with  admiration 
at  those  bright  eyes,  those  locks  curled  like  the  locks  of 
Bacchus  or  Apollo,  the  rounded  cheeks,  the  ivory  neck, 
the  parted  lips,  and  the  glow  of  health  and  exercise  over 


366  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

all.  He  fell  in  love  with  himself.  He  brought  his  lips  near 
to  take  a  kiss ;  he  plunged  his  arms  in  to  embrace  the  be 
loved  object.  It  fled  at  the  touch,  but  returned  again 
after  a  moment  and  renewed  the  fascination.  He  could 
not  tear  himself  away;  he  lost  all  thought  of  food  or 
rest,  while  he  hovered  over  the  brink  of  the  fountain 
gazing  upon  his  own  image.  He  talked  with  the  sup 
posed  spirit:  "Why,  beautiful  being,  do  you  shun  me? 
Surely,  my  face  is  not  one  to  repel  you.  The  nymphs 
love  me,  and  you  yourself  look  not  indifferent  upon  me. 
When  I  stretch  forth  my  arms  you  do  the  same ;  and  you 
smile  upon  me  and  answer  my  beckonings  with  the  like." 
His  tears  fell  into  the  water  and  disturbed  the  image.  As 
he  saw  it  depart,  he  exclaimed,  "  Stay,  I  entreat  you ! 
Let  me  at  least  gaze  upon  you,  if  I  may  not  touch  you." 
With  this,  and  much  more  of  the  same  kind,  he  cherished 
the  flame  that  consumed  him,  so  that  by  degrees  he  lost 
his  color,  his  vigor,  and  the  beauty  which  formerly  had 
so  charmed  the  nymph  Echo.  She  kept  near  him,  how 
ever,  and  when  he  exclaimed,  "  Alas,  alas !  "  she  an 
swered  him  with  the  same  words.  He  pined  away  and 
died;  and  when  his  shade  passed  the  Stygian  river,  it 
leaned  over  the  boat  to  catch  a  look  of  itself  in  the  waters. 
The  nymphs  mourned  for  him,  especially  the  water- 
nymphs  ;  and  when  they  smote  their  breasts,  Echo  smote 
hers  also.  They  prepared  a  funeral  pile,  and  would  have 
burned  the  body,  but  it  was  nowhere  to  be  found;  but 
in  its  place  a  flower,  purple  within,  and  surrounded  with 
white  leaves,  which  bears  the  name  and  preserves  the 
memory  of  Narcissus. 

Milton  alludes  to  the  story  of  Echo  and  Narcissus  in 
the  Lady's  song  in  "  Comus."  She  is  seeking  her  broth 
ers  in  the  forest,  and  sings  to  attract  their  attention : 


Echo  and  Narcissus  367 

"Sweet  Echo,  sweetest  nymph,  that  liv'st  unseen 

Within  thy  aery  shell 
By  slow  Meander's  margent  green, 
And  in  the  violet-embroidered  vale, 
Where  the  love-lorn  nightingale 
Nightly  to  thee  her  sad  song  mourneth  well; 
Canst  thou  not  tell  me  of  a  gentle  pair 
That  likest  thy  Narcissus  are? 

O,  if  thou  have 
Hid  them  in  some  flowery  cave, 

Tell  me  but  where, 

Sweet  queen  of  parly,  daughter  of  the  sphere, 
So  may'st  thou  be  translated  to  the  skies, 
And  give  resounding  grace  to  all  heaven's  harmonies." 

Milton  has  imitated  the  story  of  Narcissus  in  the  ac 
count  which  he  makes  Eve  give  of  the  first  sight  of  her 
self  reflected  in  the  fountain: — 

"  That  day  I  oft  remember  when  from  sleep 
I  first  awaked,  and  found  myself  reposed 
Under  a  shade  on  flowers,  much  wondering  where 
And  what  I  was,  whence  thither  brought,  and  how. 
Not  distant  far  from  thence  a  murmuring  sound 
Of  waters  issued  from  a  cave,  and  spread 
Into  a  liquid  plain,  then  stood  unmoved 
Pure  as  the  expanse  of  heaven;  I  thither  went 
With  unexperienced  thought,  and  laid  me  down 
On  the  green  bank,  to  look  into  the  clear 
Smooth  lake  that  to  me  seemed  another  sky. 
As  I  bent  down  to  look,  just  opposite 
A  shape  within  the  watery  gleam  appeared, 
Bending  to  look  on  me.     I  started  back ; 
It  started  back;  but  pleased  I  soon  returned, 
Pleased  it  returned  as  soon  with  answering  looks 
Of  sympathy  and  love.    There  had  I  fixed 
Mine  eyes  till  now,  and  pined  with  vain  desire, 
Had  not  a  voice  thus  warned  me :  *  What  thou  seest, 
What  there  thou  seest,  fair  creature,  is  thyself;'"  &c. 

"Paradise  Lost,"  Book  IV. 


368  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

No  one  of  the  fables  of  antiquity  has  been  oftener 
alluded  to  by  the  poets  than  that  of  Narcissus.  Here 
are  two  epigrams  which  treat  it  in  different  ways.  The 
first  is  by  Goldsmith : — 

"ON  A  BEAUTIFUL  YOUTH,  STRUCK  BLIND  BY  LIGHTNING' 

"  Sure  'twas  by  Providence  designed, 

Rather  in  pity  than  in  hate, 
That  he  should  be  like  Cupid  blind, 
To  save  him  from  Narcissus'  fate." 

The  other  is  by  Cowper : — 

"  ON  AN  UGLY  FELLOW 

"  Beware,  my  friend,  of  crystal  brook 
Or  fountain,  lest  that  hideous  hook, 

Thy  nose,  thpu  chance  to  see ; 
Narcissus'  fate  would  then  be  thine, 
And  self-detested  thou  would'st  pine, 
As  self-enamored  he." 


o 


THE  RING  OF  POLYCRATES 

BY    M.    M.    BIRD 

"Then,  would'st  thou  keep  thy  happy  place, 
Beseech  the  Immortals  of  their  grace 

Some  bitter  with  their  sweet  to  blend; 
For  when  the  gods  on  any  pour 
Of  happiness  an  unmixed  store, 

Ruin  full  sure  will  be  his  end."— SCHILLER. 

F  all  earth's  monarchs,  the  lordliest  and  the  proud 
est  was  Polycrates,  Tyrant  of  Samos.  Whatever 
he  set  his  hand  to  had  prospered.  One  by  one  he  had 
conquered  all  the  isles  of  Greece,  and  never  had  his  gal 
leys  by  sea  or  his  archers  on  land  known  defeat.  Alone 
to  be  compared  with  him  in  power  was  his  friend  and 
ally,  Amasis,  King  of  Egypt,  by  whose  side  he  had 
warred  and  shared  the  spoils  of  victory. 

This  Polycrates,  in  his  palace  on  Samos,  gazing  out 
across  the  shining  sea  and  meditating  what  new  venture 
should  occupy  his  arms,  saw  one  day  a  single  galley 
speeding  swiftly  from  the  south.  It  bore  the  cognizance 
of  the  King  of  Egypt,  the  watchmen  said. 

"  What  message  can  our  good  brother  Amasis  have 
for  us  ?  "  mused  the  King.  "  For  what  new  exploit  does 
he  demand  our  aid,  what  deed  does  he  not  dare  to  ven 
ture  till  he  league  our  charmed  fortune  with  his  own  ?  " 

The  galley  flew  over  the  waters;  it  glided  round  the 
outflung  arm  of  the  mole,  and  reached  the  quay.  Mes- 

369 


370  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

sengers  bore  in  haste  to  the  palace  a  missive  sealed  with 
the  great  seal  of  Amasis. 

Polycrates  searched  the  hieroglyphics  in  vain  for  some 
bold  scheme,  his  share  in  which  shall  be  more  slaves, 
more  land,  more  gold,  more  power,  and  more  hate  from 
those  he  conquers. 

For  this  is  what  Amasis  wrote  to  his  ally: 

"  It  is  pleasant  to  hear  of  the  success  of  a  friend  and 
ally.  But  thy  excessive  good  fortune  doth  not  please  me, 
knowing  as  I  do  that  the  divinity  is  jealous.  As  for  me, 
I  would  rather  choose  that  both  I  and  my  friends  should 
be  partly  successful  in  our  undertakings,  and  partly  suf 
fer  reverses;  and  so  pass  life  meeting  with  vicissitudes 
of  fortune  than  be  prosperous  in  all  things.  For  I  can 
not  remember  that  I  ever  heard  of  any  man  who,  having 
suffered  no  reverse,  did  not  at  last  utterly  perish.  Be 
advised  therefore  by  me,  and  act  thus  with  regard  to  thy 
good  fortune.  Consider  well  what  thou  valuest  most, 
and  the  loss  of  which  would  most  pain  thy  soul;  this 
treasure  so  cast  away  that  it  may  never  more  be  seen  of 
man." 

Polycrates  put  down  the  letter  and  meditated.  He 
looked  round  the  gorgeous  hall  wherein  he  sat,  he  looked 
out  of  the  window  at  the  marble  terraces,  the  vines  and 
fruit  trees  of  his  palace  gardens.  Below  he  saw  the 
crowded  streets  of  his  busy  town,  his  quays  where  ships 
unloaded  their  merchandise  for  his  pleasure.  There  was 
the  harbor  where  his  galleys  lay,  a  hundred  of  them, 
each  manned  by  fifty  strong  oarsmen,  slaves.  Beyond  the 
great  mole  that  captives  of  war  had  built  for  him  lay 
the  crowded  islands  of  the  Grecian  seas,  and  they  too 
were  his  vassals  or  allies.  His  power  knew  no  check; 
the  stream  of  gold  flowed  unbroken  to  his  shores.  He 


The  Ring  of  Poly  crates  371 

owned  to  himself  with  mingled  pride  and  alarm  that 
such  prosperity  was  a  thing  to  provoke  the  jealous  envy 
of  the  immortals. 

Amasis  had  seen  this  danger,  and  had  sent  a  kindly 
warning  to  his  friend.  It  was  well  done. 

What  loss  would  he  most  mourn? 

Tyrant  as  he  was,  Polycrates  was  a  patron  of  the  arts. 
It  was  at  his  court  that  Anacreon  sung  of  wine  and  love 
as  none  had  sung  before.  Painters  and  sculptors  and 
musicians  were  entertained  there,  and  he  delighted  in 
their  arts.  Should  he  sacrifice  his  favorite  singer,  his 
most  gifted  painter?  Should  he  obliterate  the  world- 
famous  fresco  of  his  banquet  hall,  or  slay  the  most  beau 
tiful  of  his  slaves  ?  But  a  new  singer  would  soon  replace 
the  old,  another  artist  would  arise  and  would  paint  a 
more  enchanting  scene,  a  lovelier  slave  would  fall  cap 
tive  to  his  arms. 

He  despaired  of  selecting  among  his  countless  treas 
ures  what  was  most  precious,  when  his  eye  fell  on  the 
great  gold  signet  on  his  fore-finger.  There  was  the  sym 
bol  of  his  power  itself,  the  splendid  gold  ring,  carved 
by  Theodorus,  son  of  Telecles  the  Samian.  There  was 
the  emerald  engraved  by  Theodorus  with  his  signet 
device.  The  impress  of  that  signet  on  the  pliant  wax  set 
the  seal  of  the  King's  command  on  every  order.  His 
eyes  dwelt  on  the  beautiful  ring;  he  turned  it  on  his 
finger,  he  marked  the  cunning  work  of  it,  the  elegant 
design.  The  gold  glittered  in  the  sunlight,  the  heart  of 
the  great  emerald  glowed  with  green  fire. 

"  This  ring,"  he  cried,  "  my  dearest  treasure,  my  most 
valued  possession,  I  will  cast  into  the  sea !  " 

His  ministers  and  courtiers  heard  him  astonished. 
They  spoke  among  themselves  with  bated  breath  of  the 


372  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

thing  the  King  proposed  to  do.  How  could  the  business 
of  the  realm  go  on  without  the  King's  recognized  seal 
to  set  upon  his  ordinances?  The  news  spread  through 
the  palace,  where  astonishment  was  mingled  with  con 
sternation,  and  consternation  with  admiration  of  the 
King  who  would  sacrifice  so  great  a  treasure  to  pro 
pitiate  the  gods  for  the  good  of  his  realm.  From  the 
palace  the  news  spread  to  the  town,  and  men  gathered 
in  knots  to  discuss  it,  and  women  ran  from  house  to 
house  to  tell  and  hear  it.  Then  they  saw  the  royal  barge 
of  fifty  oars  being  swiftly  prepared  for  sea.  The  crowds 
of  workers  left  their  toil  in  the  workshops  of  the  town 
and  clustered  on  the  quay.  They  looked  and  saw  the 
King  coming  in  procession  from  the  palace,  his  ministers 
about  him,  his  courtiers  following  after.  A  frown  was 
on  his  brow  and  a  fierce  resolve  in  his  eyes.  And  as 
he  passed  along  the  gangway  they  marked  that  his  royal 
hand  was  bare;  no  green  fire  shone  from  it  like  a  glow 
worm  at  night. 

Out,  far  out  into  the  sea  the  rowers  drove  the  swift 
galley ;  the  water  boiled  beneath  the  keel,  and  fled  hissing 
from  the  stroke  of  those  fifty  oars.  At  last  the  silent 
King  made  a  sign,  and  the  oars  flashed  out  of  the  wa 
ter,  scattering  a  silver  fountain  of  spray. 

Thrice  the  King  raised  his  arm  in  act  to  throw,  and 
thrice  as  he  eyed  the  priceless  gem  he  clutched  it  in  his 
open  palm.  But  the  fourth  time  he  closed  his  dazzled 
eyes  and  flung  it  far  from  him.  And  the  great  emerald, 
as  it  fell  into  the  main,  flashed  like  a  streamer  in  the 
northern  sky. 

No  sign  that  the  gods  accepted  his  sacrifice  followed 
the  deed.  The  sun  shone  bright  overhead,  and  below 
was  the  innumerable  laughter  of  the  waves. 


The  Ring  of  Polycrates  373 

The  King  made  a  sign  with  the  hand,  now  so  signifi 
cantly  bare,  and  the  galley  sped  back  to  the  quay.  And 
all  the  days  that  followed  there  was  mourning  in  the 
palace,  the  King  was  wrapped  in  gloom,  the  business  of 
the  state  seemed  to  have  been  brought  to  a  standstill. 

On  the  sixth  day  a  humble  fisherman  climbed  to  the 
palace  gates,  bearing  as  a  gift  a  royal  sturgeon.  "  Ac 
cept,  O  King,"  he  cried,  "  an  offering  worthy  of  thee. 
For  three-score  years  have  I  plied  my  humble  trade,  yet 
never  before  have  my  nets  brought  to  land  so  goodly  a 
fish." 

Polycrates  thanked  the  fisherman  and  bestowed  on  him 
a  purse  of  gold,  and  the  fish  he  ordered  to  be  served  for 
that  night's  banquet. 

The  King  was  in  his  chamber,  deep  in  state  affairs, 
when  a  scullion  came  running  demanding  instant  audi 
ence.  In  his  hand  was  a  jewel  that  flashed  and  glowed. 

Polycrates  stared  in  amazement,  and  then  stretched 
forth  his  hand  to  seize  the  ring  that  had  been  miracu 
lously  restored.  For  when  the  fisherman's  gift  had  been 
cut  open  the  ring  had  been  found  in  its  belly. 

The  courtiers  whispered  together  in  fear :  "  What  can 
this  mean?  Have  the  jealous  gods  rejected  the  sac 
rifice?" 

But  Polycrates  was  beside  himself  with  joy.  He  wrote 
in  haste  to  Amasis,  King  of  Egypt,  to  tell  him  what  had 
befallen.  "  Such  good  fortune  as  mine,"  he  declared, 
"  is  unassailable  by  gods  or  men." 

But  Amasis  was  of  a  different  opinion.  He  felt  that 
no  power  could  avail  to  save  a  man  so  unnaturally  for 
tunate  from  the  vengeance  of  the  jealous  gods.  He  sent 
his  herald  to  say  that  he  renounced  the  friendship  be 
tween  them  lest,  said  he,  if  some  dreadful  and  great 


374  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

calamity  befell  Polycrates  he  might  himself  be  involved 
in  it! 

Black  anger  at  this  desertion  rilled  the  heart  of 
Polycrates.  He  heard  that  Cambyses,  son  of  Cyrus,  King 
of  Persia,  was  on  the  point  of  invading  Egypt  with  a 
great  army,  so  he  offered  him  help  by  sea.  Cambyses 
gladly  accepted  this  alliance,  and  Polycrates  despatched 
forty  ships  of  war. 

But  in  his  heaven-sent  blindness  he  manned  them  with 
malcontents  and  men  of  conquered  nations  whom  he  sus 
pected  of  disloyalty  and  wished  to  remove — sending  with 
them  secretly  a  message  to  Cambyses  that  he  did  not 
wish  a  man  of  them  to  return. 

These  warriors  mutinied  before  they  reached  the  bat 
tle  ground,  and  returned  in  war  array  against  Samos,  but 
they,  too,  failed  and  Polycrates  became  more  powerful 
than  ever.  And  then  it  was  that  Orcetes,  the  Persian 
satrap  of  Sardis,  who  had  conceived  a  hatred  of  Polyc 
rates,  enticed  the  fortunate  tyrant  to  visit  him  and 
seized  upon  him  treacherously  and  crucified  him,  so  that 
men  might  see  how  the  jealous  gods  will  not  suffer  a 
mortal  to.  share  immortal  bliss,  and  that  soon  or  late 
pride  has  a  fall. 


ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 

BY  MRS.  GUY  E.  LLOYD 

EVERY  ONE  has  heard  tell  of  Rome,  that  great  city, 
already  ancient  when  Caesar  found  on  the  shores  of 
Britain  woad-painted  savages  living  in  a  swamp  where 
now  stands  the  mightiest  city  in  the  world.  The  story 
of  Romulus  and  Remus  tells  of  the  founding  of  this 
ancient  city,  and  how  it  took  its  name  from  its  first 
king. 

Older  even  than  Rome  was  a  town  built  on  a  hill  not 
far  away  by  lulus,  son  of  JEneas,  of  whose  wanderings 
you  have  heard,  and  called  Alba  Longa,  the  Long  White 
City. 

When  my  story  begins  it  was  ruled  by  King  Amulius. 
He  had  no  right  to  the  throne,  but  he  had  seized  it  by 
force  from  his  elder  brother,  Numitor,  who  was  a  peace- 
abiding  man,  and  no  match  for  his  ambitious  brother. 

Amulius  had  nothing  to  fear  from  the  gentle  Numitor, 
who  abode  with  his  flocks  and  herds,  but  his  guilty  con 
science  would  not  let  him  rest,  and  he  lived  in  terror  lest 
one  day  the  children  of  Numitor  should  avenge  their 
father's  wrongs  and  take  the  throne  that  was  theirs  by 
right  of  inheritance. 

So  he  hired  assassins  to  kill  the  boy,  and  the  girl, 
Sylvia,  he  doomed  to  be  a  vestal  virgin.  These  were 
maidens  vowed  to  remain  single  all  their  lives,  and  to 
watch  the  ever-burning  fire  in  the  shrine  of  the  goddess 
Vesta;  this  could  only  be  kept  alive  by  spotless  virgins, 

375 


376  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

and  on  its  life  depended  the  safety  of  the  city — of  Alba 
first,  and  afterwards  of  Rome. 

But  the  god  Mars,  whom  all  Romans  worship  as  the 
leader  of  their  hosts  and  the  founder  of  their  race,  looked 
with  pity  on  the  maid,  and  willed  not  that  the  seed  of 
Numitor  should  perish.  So  he  visited  her  as  she  lay 
asleep  in  the  temple  of  Vesta,  and  he  sent  her  a  won 
derful  dream. 

She  dreamt  that  as  she  sat  and  watched  the  sacred 
fire,  she  dozed,  and  the  fillet  slipped  from  her  brow, 
and  from  the  fillet  there  sprang  two  palm  trees  that  grew 
and  spread  till  their  tops  reached  the  heavens,  and  their 
branches  overspread  all  the  earth.  Seven  times  did  she 
dream  the  same  dream,  and  she  knew  at  last  that  it 
was  a  message  of  the  god.  And  lo,  in  due  time 
there  were  born  to  her  twin  sons  of  more  than  mortal 
beauty. 

When  Amulius  heard  of  the  birth  of  these  twins  his 
wrath  was  kindled.  He  commanded  that  Sylvia  should 
forthwith  be  buried  alive,  for  that  is  the  punishment 
appointed  for  virgins  unfaithful  to  their  vows ;  and  him 
self  seizing  the  wicker  cradle  in  which  the  babes  lay 
asleep,  he  flung  it  into  the  yellow  Tiber. 

But  Mars  was  mindful  of  his  own.  The  mother,  Sylvia, 
was  nowhere  to  be  found,  for  the  god  had  spirited  her 
away  in  safety,  and  the  helpless  babes,  still  sleeping 
quietly,  floated  upon  the  turbid  waters  as  though  their 
cradle  had  been  a  boat,  while  Father  Tiber  quelled  his 
raging  flood  to  let  them  pass  unharmed. 

On  drifted  the  frail  bark  down  the  river  till  it  came 
to  where,  at  the  foot  of  a  hill,  stood  a  great  wild  fig 
tree,  its  gnarled  roots  laid  bare  by  the  wash  of  the  flood. 
The  floating  cradle  was  driven  against  the  roots  of  this 


Romulus  and  Remus  377 

tree  and  held  fast  there,  for  the  water  had  reached  its 
highest  level  and  was  beginning  now  to  ebb. 

Through  all  the  roaring  of  the  raging  river  the  babes 
had  slept,  but  now,  with  a  start,  they  awoke  and  looked 
up,  expecting  to  see  their  mother  bending  over  them  and 
ready  to  take  them  to  her  breast.  But  over  their  heads 
they  saw  only  a  glimmer  of  twilight  through  the  branches 
of  the  fig  tree,  and  there  was  no  sound  save  the  sough 
of  the  wind  and  the  lapping  of  the  waters,  and  now  and 
again  the  distant  howl  of  a  wolf  seeking  its  evening 
meal.  Cold  and  hungry,  they  cried  piteously.  Presently, 
through  the  gathering  darkness,  two  green  eyes  stared 
down  at  them.  It  was  a  great  gray  she-wolf,  and  the 
hungry  babes  hushed  their  cry  and  gazed  in  wonder  at 
those  lamps  of  fire. 

The  wolf  sniffed  all  round  the  cradle ;  then  she  pushed 
it  with  her  forepaws  till  it  fell  right  over  on  its  side  and 
the  two  infants  rolled  out  of  it.  She  licked  them  gently 
with  her  rough  tongue,  and  they  cuddled  to  her  warm 
flanks  and  clutched  instinctively  with  their  tiny  fingers 
at  her  shaggy  fell.  She  dragged  them  gently  up  the  hill 
side,  away  from  the  water,  to  a  mossy  cavern  where  she 
had  her  lair,  and  there  she  gave  them  milk  as  though 
they  had  been  her  own  cubs,  and  nestling  close  against 
her  the  babes  fell  asleep. 

It  chanced  that  Faustulus,  the  chief  herdsman  of  King 
Amulius,  went  forth  one  morning  to  see  if  the  floods 
were  abated  and  the  pastures  once  more  clear.  As  he 
wandered  along  at  the  foot  of  the  Palatine  hill  he  saw 
a  cradle  lying  on  its  side  beneath  a  fig  tree.  He  went 
towards  it,  and  as  he  neared  the  place  his  eye  was  caught 
by  something  moving  within  the  dark  shadow  of  an 
overhanging  rock.  He  bent  his  steps  to  the  cave  to  see 


378  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

what  might  be  within  it,  when  on  a  sudden  a  she-wolf 
sprang  out  and  away  among  the  bushes  before  he  could 
aim  a  dart  at  her ;  and,  to  his  amazement,  a  green  wood 
pecker,  with  a  piece  of  bread  in  its  beak,  came  fluttering 
forth  from  the  hollow.  Both  wolf  and  woodpecker,  you 
must  know,  are  special  servants  of  Mars,  and  these  were 
doing  his  pleasure  and  tending  the  helpless  infants. 

Faustulus  came  to  the  cave  and  stooped  to  look  in. 
There,  scrambling  over  one  another  on  a  soft  bed  of 
moss  and  fern,  were  two  beautiful  boys;  and  he  mar 
veled  greatly,  and  said  to  himself :  "  These  babes  were 
not  born  of  common  mortals,  but  of  one  of  the  immortal 
gods.  A  naiad,  or  haply  a  river-god,  must  have  inter 
posed  to  save  them  from  the  flood,  and  to  feed  them  with 
ambrosia,  the  food  of  the  gods." 

So  he  took  them  home  to  his  wife  Laurentia,  and  told 
her  the  tale.  And  when  she  saw  their  innocent  faces 
her  motherly  heart  was  stirred  with  love  and  pity,  and 
she  tended  them  as  though  they  had  been  her  own  sons, 
and  called  them  Romulus  and  Remus. 

The  boys  grew  up  brave  and  strong.  When  they  were 
old  enough  they  helped  the  herdsmen  of  King  Amulius; 
and,  because  they  were  ever  foremost  where  there  was 
danger,  all  the  other  lads  came  to  look  up  to  them  as 
leaders.  It  was  a  life  that  pleased  the  twins  well.  All 
day  they  wandered  on  the  slopes  of  the  hills,  guarding 
the  grazing  cattle  from  wild  beasts  or  robbers,  and  at 
night  all  the  herdsmen  would  join  together  and  make  a 
camp  in  some  sheltered  valley  or  beneath  spreading  trees 
on  the  mountain  side.  And  here  they  would  build  great 
fires  to  keep  off  the  wolves,  and  would  lie  beside  them, 
singing  songs  or  telling  tales  to  one  another. 

Sometimes  the  herdsmen  of  King  Amulius  had  des- 


Romulus  and  Remus  379 

perate  fights  with  other  herdsmen  over  good  camping- 
grounds,  or  fertile  pastures,  or  safe  watering-places,  or 
over  the  ownership  of  strayed  cattle.  More  especially 
were  their  quarrels  fierce  and  frequent  with  the  herdsmen 
of  Numitor,  whose  grazing-grounds  marched  with  those 
of  King  Amulius.  Sometimes,  after  these  fights,  the 
herdsmen  of  Numitor  would  complain  to  their  master  of 
the  two  tall  striplings  who  constantly  led  the  herdsmen 
of  Amulius  to  victory. 

At  length,  one  day  they  laid  an  ambush  and  caught 
Remus,  and  bore  him  away  to  Numitor.  As  soon  as  the 
deposed  king  saw  the  lad  he  was  reminded  of  the  face 
of  his  long-lost  daughter  Sylvia,  and  he  eagerly  desired 
to  see  Romulus  also. 

Faustulus  and  his  foster-son  were  wondering  what 
could  have  befallen  Remus,  and  were  preparing  to  set 
out  in  search  of  him,  when  they  saw  a  band  of  youths 
approaching,  with  olive  boughs  in  their  hands,  in  token 
that  they  came  on  a  peaceful  errand. 

"Wherefore  come  you  hither,  friends?"  asked  Rom 
ulus. 

The  leader  of  the  band  made  answer :  "  Our  master, 
Numitor,  has  sent  us,  Romulus,  to  pray  thee  to  Hasten 
to  his  presence." 

"  Nay,"  answered  Romulus,  "  I  cannot  go  with  you, 
for  I  must  seek  my  brother  Remus,  who  is  lost." 

Then  said  the  herdsman :  "  Fear  not  for  thy  brother. 
He  is  already  with  our  master  Numitor." 

Then  Faustulus,  who  long  ago  had  guessed  who  the 
boys  must  be,  said  to  Romulus :  "  Do  thou  the  bidding  of 
Numitor,  and  go  with  these  youths.  I  myself  will  go 
with  thee,  and  will  tell  thee  on  the  way  certain  matters 
that  it  much  imports  thee  to  know." 


380  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

So  on  the  way  to  the  hall  of  Numitor,  Faustulus  told 
Romulus  all  the  tale  of  the  wicker  cradle  caught  beneath 
the  fig  tree,  and  of  the  wolf  and  woodpecker  that  had 
tended  the  helpless  babes. 

When  the  herd-lads  saw  Romulus  pass  by  they  fol 
lowed  him,  armed  with  staves  and  slings,  to  see  that  no 
harm  should  come  to  him;  for  they  loved  him  and  his 
brother  well,  and  counted  them  their  leaders. 

As  soon  as  Numitor  saw  the  two  lads  together  and 
heard  the  tale  of  their  finding,  he  was  sure  that  they 
must  be  the  children  of  his  daughter  Sylvia. 

And  Romulus  and  Remus,  when  they  knew  of  the  evil 
deeds  of  their  great-uncle  Amulius,  determined  to  take 
vengeance  on  him. 

All  the  herdsmen  were  ready  to  follow  wherever  the 
twins  might  choose  to  lead,  so  they  set  forth  at  once 
for  the  hall  of  King  Amulius,  and  they  overpowered  his 
bodyguard  and  slew  him,  and  made  Numitor  king  in  his 
stead. 

King  Numitor  was  no  ungrateful  monarch,  and  he  as 
signed  to  his  grandsons,  while  yet  alive,  all  the  lands 
beside  the  Tiber,  and  here  the  brothers  determined  to 
build  a  city  and  to  found  a  kingdom. 

And  now  there  came  a  sharp  division  between  Romulus 
and  Remus.  They  were  of  like  age,  strength,  and  cour 
age,  and  of  a  like  high  spirit  that  ill  brooked  any  kind 
of  control.  Both  wanted  to  rule,  neither  was  willing  to 
obey;  each  of  the  twins  was  ambitious  to  be  king  in  the 
new  city,  and  to  call  it  after  his  own  name. 

Then  said  their  grandfather,  King  Numitor :  "  Strive 
not  together  over  this  thing,  but  let  the  all-seeing  gods 
decide.  Go  up,  either  of  you,  to  the  top  of  one  of  these 
mountains,  and  look  abroad  upon  the  earth  and  sky,  and 


page  380] 


ROMULUS   AND   REMUS 


Romulus  and  Remus  381 

the  gods  shall  send  a  sign  whereby  ye  may  know  who  is 
chosen  king." 

So  Romulus  and  Remus  went  each  to  the  top  of  one 
of  the  hills  by  the  Tiber,  and  they  looked  abroad  upon 
the  earth  and  sky,  all  fair  and  bright  in  the  sunny  April 
weather. 

Remus  first  came  back  to  his  grandfather,  and  he  was 
flushed  with  triumph. 

"  Victory !  "  he  cried.  "  The  gods  have  chosen  me  as 
king,  for  I  have  seen  six  vultures  flying  in  the  sky." 

"  Wait,"  said  King  Numitor ;  "  do  nothing  rashly ;  let 
us  hear  what  thy  brother  hath  seen." 

As  he  spoke  Romulus  strode  into  the  hall  and  bowed 
before  his  grandfather. 

"  Speak,"  said  King  Numitor.  "  What  hast  thou  seen 
from  thy  mountain-top  ?  " 

And  Romulus  made  answer :  "  I  looked  abroad  upon 
the  earth,  and  saw  no  living  thing;  but  when  I  gazed  up 
wards,  lo,  I  saw  twelve  vultures  flying  in  the  sky." 

Then  said  Numitor :  "  Verily  the  gods  have  spoken 
plainly ;  here  can  be  no  mistaking.  Hail,  King  Romulus ! 
Thy  brother  saw  but  six  vultures." 

And  all  the  herdsmen  cried  with  a  great  shout :  "  Hail, 
King  Romulus !  " 

But  Remus  muttered  darkly :  "  I  saw  mine  first,  and 
I  should  be  the  king."  But  no  man  heeded  him. 

Then  Romulus  took  a  plow  with  a  brazen  share  and 
yoked  to  it  a  bullock  and  a  heifer,  and  plowed  a  deep 
furrow  round  the  Palatine  hill;  and  all  the  herdsmen 
followed  after,  turning  the  earth  that  the  share  displaced 
all  to  the  side  of  the  furrow  where  the  city  was  to  stand, 
so  that  good  fortune  might  ever  follow  it  and  wealth  be 
stored  within  its  walls.  But  where  the  gates  were  to 


382  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

stand,  the  plow  was  lifted  and  carried  a  little  space,  for 
that  was  the  custom  of  those  days,  that  the  gates  might 
not  be  holy,  but  that  all  men  might  pass  through. 

The  heart  of  Remus  swelled  with  sullen  anger,  and  he 
would  not  help  his  brother,  nor  take  any  part  in  the 
building  of  the  city.  Romulus  would  gladly  have  shared 
his  lands  and  his  wealth,  but  Remus  would  take  nothing 
at  his  hands ;  if  he  might  not  be  king  he  cared  for  noth 
ing  else. 

Day  by  day  he  loitered  about,  gloomily  watching 
Romulus  and  his  men  as  they  toiled  at  the  walls  of  their 
city.  They  wrought  hard  and  long  each  day,  for  they 
wished  to  surround  their  chosen  site  with  a  rampart 
before  any  foe  came  to  interrupt  their  work. 

Their  first  fortification  was  but  a  ditch  and  a  mound, 
neither  high  nor  wide,  but  enough  to  serve  as  a  defense 
while  they  built  better  walls  behind  it  at  their  leisure. 

On  the  day  the  first  wall  of  his  new  city  was  com 
pleted,  Romulus  was  filled  with  joy,  and  offered  sacri 
fices  to  the  gods,  and  gave  thanks  in  the  presence  of 
all  his  men. 

But  Remus  thrust  rudely  in  among  the  throng  and 
laughed  aloud  in  scorn :  "  What  a  wall  to  make  such  a 
pother  about !  "  he  cried ;  and  running  forward  he  leaped 
the  ditch  and  the  rampart,  and  turning  leaped  back  again. 
"  See  how  great  a  defense  is  your  fine  wall,"  he  cried 
to  Romulus,  mocking  him.  "If  a  wolf  should  push 
against  it  he  would  knock  it  down,  and  I  myself  can  leap 
within  it  whenever  I  choose." 

And  Romulus  answered,  pale  with  passion :  "  Go  thy 
ways,  brother,  and  leave  my  wall  alone,  or  I  may  do  thee 
a  mischief." 

"  Thy  wall ! "   retorted  Remus.     "  Scarce   can   I   see 


Romulus  and  Remus  383 

where  thy  wall  runs.    I  thought,  verily,  some  mole  must 
have  been  rootling  here  upon  the  hillside." 

Now  it  has  always  been  the  custom  of  soldiers  to  build 
first  with  the  spade,  and  the  wall  that  Romulus  and  his 
friends  had  thrown  up  as  they  dug  their  ditch  was  higher 
even  now  than  most  of  the  walls  that  were  made  in  those 
days. 

And  Celer,  the  henchman  of  Romulus,  the  youth  who 
had  helped  him  most  in  his  work,  was  sorely  angered 
when  Remus  mocked;  and  when  once  more  he  leaped 
the  wall,  crying,  "  Even  so  will  the  enemy  enter  your 
city,"  Celer  made  answer  fiercely :  "  And  even  thus  will 
we  meet  the  enemy " ;  and  he  smote  Remus  suddenly 
with  the  spade  that  was  in  his  hand,  and  Remus  fell 
dead  at  his  brother's  feet. 

And  when  Celer  saw  that  he  had  slain  the  brother  of 
the  King  he  flung  down  his  spade  and  fled  quickly,  and 
being  swift  of  foot  he  escaped  to  a  far-off  land. 

And  Romulus  wept  sore  for  his  brother,  and  they  took 
the  body  of  Remus  to  the  summit  of  the  hill,  and  there 
they  burnt  it  upon  a  great  funeral  pile. 

The  newly  built  city  was  called  Rome;  and  here  for 
many  years  Romulus  reigned  as  king,  terrible  to  his 
foes  and  just  and  kindly  to  all  his  people. 

And  when  forty  years  had  passed  away  it  chanced  that 
the  King  called  together  all  his  warriors  to  the  Goat's 
Pool,  that  he  might  see  and  speak  with  them.  They  were 
standing  ranged  in  their  ranks  while  Romulus  sat  upon 
a  high  throne  to  muster  them,  when  on  a  sudden  there 
came  a  great  darkness  upon  the  whole  assembly  so  that 
no  man  could  see  the  face  of  him  who  stood  next  to  him. 
Then,  in  the  midst  of  the  darkness,  came  a  mighty  storm 
of  thunder  and  lightning.  When  the  storm  passed  and 


384  Half  a  Hundred  Hero  Tales 

the  sun  came  out  again  all  gazed  in  wonder  and  terror 
at  the  throne  of  Romulus,  for  the  King  was  gone — he 
had  vanished  from  their  sight.  And  there  were  those 
who  said  that  they  had  seen  amid  the  storm  a  chariot 
of  fire  mounting  to  the  heavens,  and  that  the  charioteer 
was  none  other  than  Mars  himself  come  to  bear  away 
his  son  Romulus  to  the  abode  of  the  immortal  gods. 

And  while  all  men  doubted  and  wondered  and  talked 
of  these  things  it  fell  on  a  day  that  a  friend  of  Romulus, 
named  Julius  Proculus,  had  a  wondrous  vision.  For  it 
seemed  to  him  as  he  traveled  alone  among  the  moun 
tains,  that  the  King  stood  before  him,  great  and  noble 
and  clad  in  shining  armor. 

And  Julius  cried  out :  "  Ah,  my  lord,  wherefore  hast 
thou  left  thy  city  in  such  sorrow  ?  Hast  thou  indeed  for 
saken  forever  all  those  who  love  thee  ?  " 

Then  the  bright  vision  made  answer :  "  For  a  space 
have  I  dwelt  with  men,  and  a  great  and  glorious  city 
have  I  founded.  Know  me  henceforward  as  Quirinus, 
one  of  the  immortal  gods.  And  now  go  back  to  my  peo 
ple  and  tell  them  that  if  they  will  follow  forever  the  law 
that  I  have  given  them,  suffering  neither  cowardice  nor 
license  among  them,  but  being  brave  and  just  and  hon 
orable,  then  will  I,  Quirinus,  ever  be  at  hand  to  help 
them  in  their  need,  and  they  shall  rule  over  all  the  peoples 
of  the  world." 


BY   CARROLL  WATSON    RANKIN 

STORIES   FOR   GIRLS 

THE  CASTAWAYS  OF  PETE'S  PATCH 

Illustrated  by  ADA  C.  WILLIAMSON.    $1.25  net.    (Just  pub- 

lished.) 

A  tale  of  five  girls  and  two  youthful  grown-ups  who  enjoyed 
unpremeditated  camping;  of  a  picturesque  Indian  who  sells 
his  home  in  order  to  live  in  it;  of  a  mysteriously  shipwrecked 
boy  who  is  unable  to  tell  whence  he  came;  of  Mabel,  who 
tumbled  into  all  the  water  there  was,  and  of  Mabel's  friends, 
who  sometimes  tumbled  in  with  her;  of  broken  game  laws,  of 
a  baffled  game-warden  who  proved  to  be  somebody  else;  and 
of  many  other  things  that  might  have  happened  on  the  rugged 
shores  of  Lake  Superior. 

DANDELION  COTTAGE 

Illustrated  by  Mmes.  SHINN  and  FINLEY.    $1.50. 

Four  young  girls  secure  the  use  of  a  tumbledown  cottage. 
They  set  up  housekeeping  under  numerous  disadvantages, 
and  have  many  amusements  and  queer  experiences. 

"A  capital  story.  It  is  refreshing  to  come  upon  an  author  who  can 
tell  us  about  real  little  girls,  with  sensible  ordinary  parents,  girls  who 
are  neither  phenomenal  nor  silly."— Outlook. 

THE  ADOPTING  OF  ROSA  MARIE 

A  sequel  to  "  Dandelion  Cottage."  Illustrated  by  Mrs.  SHINN. 

$1.50. 

The  little  girls,  who  played  at  keeping  house  in  the  earlier 
book,  enlarge  their  activities  to  the  extent  of  playing  mother 
to  a  little  Indian  girl. 

41  Those  who  have  read  '  Dandelion  Cottage '  will  need  no  urging  to 
follow  further.  ...  A  lovable  group  of  four  real  children,  happily  not 
perfect,  but  full  of  girlish  plans  and  pranks.  ...  A  delightful  sense 
of  humor."— Boston  Transcript. 

THE  GIRLS   OF  GARDENVILLE 

Illustrated  by  MARY  WELLMAN.     i2mo.    $1.50. 

Interesting,  amusing,  and  natural  stories  of  a  girls'  club— 
"  The  Sweet  Sixteen"  of  Gardenville. 

"Will  captivate  as  many  adults  as  if  it  were  written  for  them.  .  .  . 
The  secret  of  Mrs.  Rankin's  charm  is  her  naturalness  .  .  .  real  girls 
.  .  .  not  young  ladies  with  '  pigtails,'  but  girls  of  sixteen  who  are  not 
twenty-five  .  .  .  as  original  as  amusing." — Boston  Transcript. 

HENRY     HOLT     AND     COMPANY 

34  WEST  330  STREET  NEW  YORK 


COMPANION  STORIES  OF  COUNTRY  LIFE 

FOR  BOYS  £y  CHARLES  P.  BURTON 

THE  BOYS  OF  BOB'S  HILL 

Illustrated  by  GEORGE  A.  WILLIAMS.    I2mo.    $1.25. 
A  lively  story  of  a  party  of  boys  in  a  small  New  England 
town. 

"A  first-rate  juvenile  ...  a  real  story  for  the  live  human  boy — any 
boy  will  read  it  eagerly  to  the  end  .  .  .  quite  thrilling  adventures." — 
Chicago-Record-Herald. 

"Tom  Sawyer  would  have  been  a  worthy  member  of  the  Bob's  Hill 
crowd  and  shared  their  good  times  and  thrilling  adventures  with  un 
common  relish.  ...  A  jolly  group  of  youngsters  as  nearly  true  to  the 
real  thing  in  boy  nature  as  one  can  ever  expect  to  find  between  covers." 
— Christian  Register. 

THE  BOB'S  CAVE  BOYS 

Illustrated  by  VICTOR  PERARD.    $1.50. 

"It  would  be  hard  to  find  anything  better  in  the  literature  of  New 
England  boy  life.  Healthy,  red-blooded,  human  boys,  full  of  fun, 
into  trouble  and  out  again,  but  frank,  honest,  and  clean." — The  Con~ 
gregationalist. 

"Even  better  than  the  first  book,  will  interest  every  healthy  young 
ster." — Christian  Register. 

"A  rousing  story  of  wide-awake  youngsters.  A  very  delightful  book. 
Told  with  much  humor." — Indianapolis  News. 

THE  BOB'S  HILL  BRAVES 

Illustrated  by  H.  S.  DELAY.     I2mo.  $1.50. 
The  "Bob's  Hill"  band  spend  a  vacation  in  Illinois,  where 
they  play  at  being  Indians,  hear  thrilling  tales  of  real  Indians, 
and  learn  much  frontier  history.     A  story  of  especial  inter 
est  to  "Boy  Scouts." 

"Merry  youngsters.  Capital.  Thrilling  tales  of  the  red  men  and 
explorers.  These  healthy,  red-blooded,  New  England  boys." — Phila 
delphia  Press. 

THE  BOY  SCOUTS  OF  BOB'S  HILL 

Illustrated  by  GORDON  GRANT.    i2mo.    $1.25  net. 

This,  the  fourth  book  in  the  popular  Bob's  Hill  Series,  gives 
good  promise  of  being  even  more  widely  read.  The  publishers 
have  been  fortunate  in  the  admirable  illustrations  by  the 
official  artist  of  the  Boy  Scout  Movement. 

The  "gang"  are  just  as  human,  humorous  and  clearly  in 
dividualized  as  ever;  and  while  the  influence  of  the  book  is 
good,  there  is  no  "preaching,"  and  fun  and  adventure  abound. 

HENRY    HOLT     AND     COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS  (vm'12-  NEW  YORK 


BY    ALICE    CALHOUN    HAINES 

For  Young  FoU^s  from  9  to  16  Years  old. 

PARTNERS  FOR  FAIR 

With  illustrations  by  FAITH  A  VERY.    $1.25  net. 

A  story  full  of  action,  not  untinged  by  pathos,  of  a  boy 
and  his  faithful  dog  and  their  wanderings  after  the  poor- 
house  burns  down.  They  have  interesting  experiences  with  a 
traveling  circus;  the  boy  is  thrown  from  a  moving  train,  and 
has  a  lively  time  with  the  Mexican  Insurrectos,  from  whom  he 
is  rescued  by  our  troops. 

THE  LUCK  OF  THE  DUDLEY  GRAHAMS 

Illustrated  by  FRANCIS  DAY.    300  pp.,  I2mo.    $1.50. 
A  family  story  of  city  life.    Lightened  by  humor  and  an 
airship. 

"Among  the  very  best  of  books  for  young  folks.  Appeals  especially 
to  girls." — Wisconsin  List  for  Township  Libraries. 

"Promises  to  be  perennially  popular.  A  family  of  happy,  healthy, 
inventive,  bright  children  make  the  best  of  restricted  conditions  and 
prove  themselves  masters  of  circumstances." — Christian  Register. 

"Sparkles  with  cleverness  and  humor." — Brooklyn  Eagle. 

COCK-A-DQODLE  HILL 

A  sequel  to  the  above.  Illustrated  by  FRANCIS  DAY. 

296   pp.,    I2mo.     $1.50. 

"Cockle-a-doodle  Hill"  is  where  the  Dudley  Graham  family 
went  to  live  when  they  left  New  York,  and  here  Ernie  started 
her  chicken-farm,  with  one  solitary  fowl,  "Hennerietta."  The 
pictures  of  country  scenes  and  the  adventures  and  experiences 
of  this  household  of  young  people  are  very  life-like. 

"No  better  book  for  young  people  than  'The  Luck  of  the  Dudley 
Grahams'  was  offered  last  year.  'Cock-a-Doodle  Hill'  is  another  of 
similar  qualities."— Philadelphia  Press. 

HENRY     HOLT     AND     COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS  (vin'12)  NEW  YORK 


STANDARD  CYCLOPEDIAS  FOR  YOUNG  OR  OLD 

CHAMPLIN'S 

YOUNG  FOLKS'  CYCLOPAEDIAS 

By  JOHN  D.  CHAMPLIN 

Late  Associate  Editor  of  the  American  Cyclopeedia 
Bound  in  substantial  red  buckram.     Each  volume  complete 
in  itself  and  sold  separately.      I2mo,  $3.00  per  volume,  retail 

COMMON    THINGS 

New,  Enlarged  Edition,  850  pp.    Profusely  Illustrated 
"A  book  which  will  be  of  permanent  value  to  any  boy  or  girl  to 
whom  it  may  be  given,  and  which  fills  a  place  in  the  juvenile  library, 
never,  so  far  as  I  know,  supplied  before." — Susan  Cooiidge* 

PERSONS  AND  PLACES 

New,  Up-to-Date  Edition,  985  pp.     Over  375  Illustrations 

44  We  know  copies  of  the  work  to  which  their  young  owners  turn 
instantly  for  information  upon  every  theme  about  which  they  have 
questions  to  ask.  More  than  this,  we  know  that  some  of  these  copies 
are  read  daily,  as  well  as  consulted;  that  their  owners  turn  the  leaves 
as  they  might  those  of  a  fairy  book,  reading  intently  articles  of  which 
they  had  not  thought  before  seeing  them,  and  treating  the  book  simply 
as  one  capable  of  furnishing  the  rarest  entertainment  in  exhaustless 
quantities.  "—.#.  Y.  Evening  Post. 

LITERATURE  AND  ART 

604  pp.     270  Illustrations 

"Few  poems,  plays,  novels,  pictures,  statues,  or  fictitious  characters 
that  children — or  most  of  their  parents— K>f  our  day  are  likely  to  inquire 
about  will  be  missed  here.  Mr.  Champlin's  judgment  seems  unusually 
sound."—  The  Nation. 

GAMES  AND  SPORTS 

By  JOHN  D.  CHAMPLIN  and  ARTHUR  BOSTWICK 
Revised  Edition,  784  pp.     900  Illustrations 

41  Should  form  a  part  of  every  juvenile  library,  whether  public  or 
private." — The  Independent. 

NATURAL    HISTORY 

By  JOHN  D.  CHAMPLIN,  assisted  by  FREDERICK  A.  LUCAS 
725  pp.     Over  800  Illustrations 

"Here,  in  compact  and  attractive  form,  is  valuable  and  reliable  in- 
formation  on  every  phase  of  natural  history,  on  every  item  of  interest 
to  the  student.  Invaluable  to  the  teacher  and  school,  and  should  be  on 
every  teacher's  desk  for  ready  reference,  and  the  children  should  be 
taught  to  go  to  this  volume  for  information  useful  and  interesting."— 
Journal  of  Education. 

HENRY    HOLT    AND    COMPANY 

NEW  YORK  CHICAGO 


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